


You Must Remember This

by hollycomb



Category: Star Trek: Alternate Original Series (Movies)
Genre: M/M, Time Travel
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-08-25
Updated: 2013-08-25
Packaged: 2017-12-24 15:08:24
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 24,594
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/941407
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hollycomb/pseuds/hollycomb
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sulu is sent back in time to go undercover as his twenty-six-year-old self and investigate espionage on the Enterprise during its initial five-year mission. This involves sharing a bed with the man who broke his heart, Pavel Chekov.</p>
            </blockquote>





	You Must Remember This

  
The war has changed everyone. Kirk's hair is more gray than blond, and Uhura's slim figure has become gaunt. Spock is stone-faced and silent, letting opportunities to correct or challenge Kirk pass by. Scotty has gotten fat and is fidgeting nervously in his seat. Pavel has a scar splitting his bottom lip, another over his right cheekbone, and his hair is cropped short in a way that makes him look stern and unfriendly. Hikaru has scars of his own that none of them would recognize, and gray patches over his ears, though he is only thirty-eight years old. McCoy, of course, is not here.   
  
"I trust everyone here implicitly," Kirk says when the doors of the meeting room are sealed shut, Kirk's personal guards standing outside. They're on a space station in the Ekbanta system, in the fifth month of the third year of the Second War. The Klingons have broken their treaty and allied with the Rythians, and Starfleet is losing badly.   
  
"You're here because I trust you, and also because I'm out of ideas," Kirk says. He looks very tired. Hikaru thinks of McCoy's funeral, when Kirk was still suffering from what was probably post traumatic stress disorder. Undiagnosed, because, well. Hikaru hasn't spent any significant amount of time with the people in this room since then. Kirk still Captains the _Enterprise_ and Chekov is his first officer. Uhura and Hikaru have their own ships. Spock is still working for central intelligence, as far as Hikaru knows. Scotty retired after Gaila died in the First War.  
  
"This information is not to leave this room," Kirk says. He pauses for effect, looking around at each of them. "It's come to my attention that someone is leaking information about Starfleet strategy to the Klingons."  
  
"What?" Uhura frowns and sits forward. "It's not like them to work with foreign spies, at least not over extended periods of time."   
  
"It's true, Captain," Spock says. "They have no history of this type of behavior."   
  
"It's the only explanation," Kirk says. He sighs and takes a seat at the table, sliding his hands over his eyes as if to clear them. Hikaru has heard rumors that Kirk is utilizing Xaan technology in order to avoid sleep.   
  
"I've studied this," Kirk says. "It goes back, way back. Back to the time when all of us served together on the _Enterprise_."   
  
That was when things began to fall apart for the Federation, during what was supposed to be a peaceful five-year mission. It was canceled in the third year when the war effort needed every ship in the fleet. Hikaru still thinks of the canceling of that mission as the end of the world. What he's living in now is something no one in his generation was adequately warned about. Too many years of peace made them not weak but overly optimistic. Even now Hikaru can't believe that one of Kirk's crew was passing information to the Klingons back in those idyllic years.   
  
"What favor would a spy want from the Klingons in exchange for information?" Hikaru asks.   
  
"The Klingons have been keeping storehouses of human prisoners for years, and they certainly have stockpiles of plundered wealth," Kirk says. "They could offer a spy a palace stocked with slaves, waiting for him or her upon retirement. Or maybe the motives were political? I've gone over it so many times in my head, but I can't come up with a clear answer, though I'm certain about the origin, based on what's been leaked. I need another set of eyes to go over this data."  
  
"Of course, Captain," Uhura says. "I'm sure we'd all be happy to help review the information you've collected."  
  
"Thank you, Captain," Kirk says, giving her a little smile. "But I'm afraid the help I need is a bit more complicated than that."  
  
"Complicated in what way?" Hikaru asks. He glances at Pavel, who is silent at Kirk's side, certainly already aware of whatever Kirk is about to propose. He looks nervous, though it's not something anyone who doesn't know him very well would recognize. His lips are just a bit tight, and he's touching the sleeve of his shirt, worrying the fabric between his thumb and forefinger. He catches Hikaru staring at him and Hikaru looks away.   
  
"I need someone to go back to the third year of that first mission and gather information there -- in the past." Kirk glances around the table at the shocked faces of his former crew. Pavel continues touching his sleeve, staring down at his hand on the table.   
  
"Captain," Spock says, and then doesn't seem to know how to continue. He's frowning slightly, and he shares a dark look of understanding with Kirk.  
  
"Are you talking about using the Bythult technology?" Uhura asks. The Bythult civilization recently joined the Federation, after an unprovoked attack on their remote planet. They don't have much to offer except for a purported control of time travel, but they guard the technology closely and not much is known about how it works.  
  
"That's exactly what I'm talking about," Kirk says. "I've been in touch with their ambassador, and I've communicated to him the critical nature of this mission. He's agreed to allow me to send one person back -- it's not a physical journey, but that person's current consciousness will reside in their past body for twenty-four hours. I would go myself, but." Kirk pauses to touch his throat, then his collar. "Frankly I don't think I could deal with the temptation to change things. That's not what this mission, or this Bythult technology, is about. Whoever goes back will have to lay low and behave as if everything is normal. All they will do is keep their eyes peeled for clues. None of us knew, back then, to look for a traitor."   
  
Everyone is quiet for awhile, absorbing this, and then it's Hikaru who speaks, though he doesn't remember deciding to, the words just come out.  
  
"You're not sending Pavel?" he says, looking at Pavel when he asks this. Pavel's eyes shoot up to Hikaru's and he looks angry, but that's nothing new. Every time they've had to deal with each other in the past ten years, Pavel has been angry.   
  
"Pavel was my first choice, of course, as my first officer, but." Kirk reaches over to rub Pavel's shoulder. "He has some reservations about using this technology. And I respect that. But if I can find a volunteer, I want to move forward on this. I think it could give me a whole new perspective on this investigation."   
  
"I'll do it," Hikaru says, again speaking without thinking. Or he is thinking, but only about defying Pavel's objections.  
  
"I would encourage you both to think more seriously about what you are suggesting," Spock says.   
  
"Spock is right," Uhura says. "We don't even know much about this technology yet. To jump on the opportunity to use it as soon as we can --"  
  
"Nyota, how many crew have you lost this year alone?" Kirk asks, and the fire in Uhura's eyes is enough to raise the temperature in the room. "I know how desperate you are to stop this, to do something, because I'm desperate, too. This is not a fair fight, and I won't keep watching my crew shrink by the day, I can't."   
  
"You're talking about messing around with the laws of physics," Scotty says. "I can't say I'm surprised Mr. Chekov objected."   
  
"The Bythults assure me that it's perfectly safe," Kirk says. "And there's evidence that they've been using it for years, not to change the past but to gain an otherwise inaccessible wisdom from it. It will feel almost like virtual reality for Hikaru -- he won't really be there, bodily, we'll have his body in the temple where the Bythults work their magic. There's no way having him go through this experience will change time, at least if Hikaru behaves himself, which he will."  
  
"Why do I get the feeling they haven't disclosed much about how this technology actually works?" Uhura says.   
  
"That was Pavel's chief objection," Kirk says. "And frankly, Hikaru, you should take that into account before agreeing to undergo this. They've very close-lipped about this stuff and they'll have full control over the process. I just -- there was a time when you all trusted my instincts, and I wish you'd trust them now. This feels right."  
  
Kirk looks at Hikaru, who smiles. He can't pretend he's not enjoying that this is about faith and trust, and that Pavel can't make the leap. Some things never change.   
  
"I'm still in," Hikaru says. "I'll do everything I can to find out who the traitor is."   
  
"I know you will." Kirk's smile is sad, and somehow it makes him look even older. "And I want to thank everyone in this room, just -- for being people I can count on. We might not get to see each other as much as we'd like, but you're still like family to me."  
  
Scotty crosses the room to embrace Kirk and leaves quickly, his eyes wet. Uhura gives Kirk a hug and hurries after Scotty.   
  
"Understanding that your decision is final, I'd like to stay and discuss this further, Jim," Spock says. Kirk's smile widens a bit, less sad now.  
  
"I thought you might, Mr. Spock. Hikaru, why don't we meet up after dinner to talk about the details?"   
  
"Sounds good, Jim." Hikaru hugs his former captain goodbye and glances at Pavel over Kirk's shoulder. "Good to see you both," he says before heading out of the meeting room.   
  
He doesn't need to look back to know that the footsteps chasing him down the space station corridor are Pavel's. He never could let Hikaru get away without having the last goddamn word.   
  
"Are you crazy?" Pavel hisses, grabbing Hikaru's shoulder and spinning him around. "This is like suicide -- the Bythults are using you as a guinea pig! There's nothing to indicate they've ever tried this thing on a human, and they're barely corporeal, nothing like our physical makeup --"  
  
"Someone has to do something," Hikaru says. He yanks his hand out of Pavel's grip. "I lost most of my medical staff just last week, the ship has taken so much fire that it's close to being decommissioned, and I know the _Enterprise_ isn't doing much better."  
  
"You haven't been with him for the past ten years," Pavel says, his voice lowering as his eyes narrow. "You don't know the way he is now. Obsessed with the past, since McCoy died. That is what this is about, Hikaru."  
  
"Then why isn't he going himself?"  
  
"Because he's afraid he would never come back!"  
  
"I don't want to hear this." Hikaru starts walking, and Pavel follows, hovering too close like he always did, even well before they were sharing a bed. "This is a betrayal, you know. I don't think he'd appreciate you telling me all of this. It's personal."   
  
"You don't want to deal with it, that's all. You're the one who said I betrayed you by staying with him when he had no one else."   
  
"He had Spock!"   
  
"That was not enough, not after he had lost McCoy, he needed someone human to restore that balance, he needed _you_ , Hikaru, but you ran away --"  
  
"I'm not going over all of this shit again!" Hikaru says, embarrassed when he realizes that he's let his voice carry. A few passing officers cast looks in his direction before heading away. Hikaru drags his hands through his hair, hating the sight of Pavel and those judgmental, bitter eyes. He can't believe now that he once found them beautiful and soft, a daily comfort.   
  
"Ironic that you don't want to discuss the past," Pavel says, his lips curling into a mean little smile. "Considering that you just volunteered to visit it."   
  
"You want me to step up and help Kirk? That's what I'm doing."   
  
"Too little, too late."  
  
"Just leave me alone," Hikaru says, feeling like a wounded adolescent, something only Pavel can bring out of him anymore. He starts to storm away but Pavel grabs his arm.  
  
"Wait." Pavel's eyes actually soften for a moment, and his jaw goes tense. "In the past, in the third year of our mission -- I was -- you were --"  
  
He can't even bring himself to say it. They were in love.  
  
"Yeah. I remember." Hikaru scoffs, not sure what he's trying to communicate. Disbelief that he ever loved Pavel? Regret? Neither is close to the truth: he remembers too well what it was like to know that Pavel loved him, too. Nothing before or since has elevated him the way that Pavel's acceptance and admiration did. Colors were brighter. Breathing was easier.  
  
"So." Pavel's cheeks go pink. Leave it to him to still know how to blush at thirty-four. "If you are hateful toward me, things might be disrupted."  
  
"You really think I'm that selfish and bitter? Of course I won't be hateful toward you. I'll act like everything's normal, fly under the radar."   
  
"Fine." Pavel preens a little, brushing invisible things off of his uniform. "What if you die?"  
  
"If I die, then, well, I die. I don't know. What do you mean, 'what if you die?' What the hell is wrong with you?"  
  
Pavel just walks away then, his hands curled into fists at his sides. Hikaru feels guilty but doesn't try to go after him. After all of these years, and all of the far worse things they've said to each other, what would be the point? He walks back to the hotel he's staying at inside the space station, trying not to think too much about what it will be like. He'll have to kiss Pavel, and hold him, and see those eyes the way they were before they were embittered by all that happened. He sits on his bland hotel room bed and tells himself that he's not looking forward to it, that it will be eerie at best, but when he looks at the neat, sterile pillows on the bed and remembers what it was like to sink down into sleep with Pavel tucked against his chest, humming with satisfaction after sex, his soft curls tickling Hikaru's nose, he has to admit that part of the reason he volunteered for this mission is that he's obsessed with the past himself. The idea that he could go back and behave hatefully toward the Pavel he loved is ludicrous. If anything, Hikaru will worship him even more than he did then, knowing now what the rest of his life will be like without him.  
  
*  
  
Hikaru doesn't see Pavel again before his journey with Kirk to the Bythult temple. They're blindfolded during the last stretch, and they make their way through a noisy jungle, carried on a traditional wooden platform along with the ambassador and his assistants. Hikaru is nervous, his heartbeat hammering in the hollow of his throat, and twice during the journey he has to reach over and touch Kirk's arm for reassurance. Ever since their first adventure together, Hikaru has never been able to feel doomed in Kirk's presence, no matter what the circumstances.  
  
"You sure you want to do this?" Kirk asks while they're still blindfolded.   
  
"Yes." Of course he isn't, but there's no going back now. "I just -- something's gotta give. If this can help the Federation, it's worth the risk."   
  
"I envy you, kind of," Kirk admits. "Except for the part where you have to lose all of that again, twenty-four hours later."  
  
"All of that?"  
  
"You know, the way things were. We were all so young and excited about the mission, everything we were sure we were going to do. All the new worlds we were going to discover, the cultures we'd get to experience. And. You had Pavel."  
  
"Yeah, well. That's ancient history."  
  
"Right, and you're about to be immersed in it. Are you worried? Will it be weird?"  
  
"Fuck, Jim, is that a serious question? Will it be weird? Hell yes it will be weird, but I can handle it. He was different back then. It won't be like -- being with the guy he is now."   
  
Hikaru should stop talking, but he's nervous and blindfolded and kind of feels like he's being carried to his execution by eerily composed natives.   
  
"He's not that different now," Jim says after some time has passed.   
  
"Huh?"  
  
"Pavel. He puts on a front for you."  
  
"Oh, Jesus Christ. You think so? It hasn't occurred to you that maybe he's putting on a front for you?"  
  
"What -- why would he?"  
  
"He thinks you want him to be little Pavel from the old days, that it helps you in some way. Maybe it does, I don't know. Shit, sorry. I'll shut up."   
  
Kirk laughs. "Is that supposed to be news to me?" he asks. "That Pavel thinks of himself as my caretaker? I get that, Hikaru, I live with it every day. But that's just who he is, he's got a big heart, he worries about people. He only turns into a spitting viper around you."   
  
"Great, well. Further proof that we made the right decision."   
  
"I don't remember you making any decisions. The war made those decisions for you."   
  
"Bullshit -- let's -- can we not talk about it?"  
  
"Hey, humor me. I'm worried about you."  
  
"You think I might not make it back?"   
  
"No, no. I mean here, in the real world, in the present. I've been worried about you. And him."   
  
"Jim. Leave it alone."   
  
"You're so unhappy. And he's -- God. A mess."   
  
"No, he's not. Why? What makes you think so?"  
  
"Well, he's devoted his life to being my nursemaid, for one thing. You've got a first officer. Does she tuck you into bed when you've had too much to drink? Does she lecture you about never getting enough sleep, not calling your mother, not taking enough vitamin D pills?"  
  
"No -- but -- Jim, he's just trying to be a good friend." Hikaru was convinced at one time that Pavel was in love with Kirk, and that he stayed with him for this reason. Later Hikaru realized that Pavel was just punishing for taking his own ship, but it still stung, and it stings now, thinking of the way Pavel cared for Jim in those years when he didn't know how to take care of himself anymore. Hikaru was hurting, too, but to Pavel that was less important.  
  
"That's crap and you know it," Kirk says. "I was a convenient distraction when you left. Listen, I appreciated it at the start. You know what I was like. But Pavel, he never got a chance to break away. He doesn't have any real friends, Hikaru. I catch him in his room sometimes, staring at old pictures of his parents. And old pictures of the two of you."  
  
"No -- that's -- no way. He told me once that I ruined his life, and he meant it. He doesn't have any lingering tender feelings for me, believe me. After the meeting in Ekbanta he chewed me out for going along with this."   
  
"Yeah, I figured something like that must have happened. I found him in his room before dinner, pretending he hadn't been crying his eyes out. He got hammered that night, and I was the one tucking him in. It's been like that, more and more in the past few years."   
  
"That's ridiculous." Pavel doesn't cry, and he never lets his vodka get the best of him. Hikaru's chest tightens, the thick jungle air making it hard for him to breathe. Kirk is just trying to make him forgive Pavel before the mission, so that the Pavel of the past won't suspect anything.   
  
"I know he hurt you bad," Kirk says. "He's like a wild animal when he feels cornered, vicious, lashing out. Believe me, I've seen that side of him, too. You just -- you two were so young."  
  
"Captain Kirk," the ambassador says, "Excuse my interruption, but we've arrived."  
  
Hikaru is glad, and embarrassed. Being blindfolded allowed him to forget that a group of Bythult dignitaries were listening in on that childish conversation about his spurned love. When the ambassador gives the okay, Hikaru and Kirk remove their blindfolds and stare up at the forested temple in wonder. It's triangular in shape, pointed at the top, which is open to the sky. Climbing vines cover its sun-baked walls, and the entrance is a simple, dark doorway, guarded by two Bythults in flowing robes.   
  
"Here we go," Kirk says, squeezing Hikaru's shoulder.  
  
The inside of the temple is bare and clean. There is a single raised platform in the middle of the cavernous room, light from the opening in the roof spilling down onto it. Tiny white butterflies flutter within it, the flash of their wings like glitter through the sunlight. Seeing this place, Hikaru is flooded with the sense of certainty that Kirk has about this: it's the right thing to do. By the time he's arranged on the platform, blinking up at the sun as the butterflies flit through it, he's not afraid anymore.   
  
"You okay?" Kirk asks. He kneels down to take Hikaru's hand as the Bythults prepare a ceremonial drink for him.   
  
"Yeah," Hikaru says. He has to blink back tears when he stares up at Kirk, at the wrinkles around his bright eyes and calm smile. Hikaru has missed him so much, and he's missed the way Kirk was when McCoy was at his side, Spock primly spouting advice as McCoy ranted, Uhura at the comm station, Scotty in the engine room, and Pavel beside Hikaru at the conn, giving him secret smiles when somebody barked something bombastic over the ship-wide system. Everything was perfect, and here on this altar, waiting to go back, Hikaru can't believe it's all gone.  
  
"I'll be right here the whole time," Kirk says.   
  
"I know. Thanks."  
  
Kirk stares at Hikaru for awhile, his mouth hanging open, and Hikaru knows what he's thinking. He wants Hikaru to deliver some message to McCoy. He wants, through Hikaru, to be able to talk to him one last time. But finally Kirk just smiles tightly and squeezes Hikaru's hand, then lets it go.  
  
The drink the Bythults give him tastes like rosewater and mint. After he's gotten it all down Hikaru is completely surrendered to them, and they float around him, ghostlike in their long robes, their skin translucent in the light. Hikaru's eyes begin to drift shut, and his body feels lighter, as if he's turning into a Bythult. He wants to lift his hand to see if his fingers have become translucent, but he has no energy, and his eyes fall shut as a feeling that's like disappearing molecule by molecule creeps from his feet up to his shoulders. It's benign, and peaceful, and in his exhaustion, as his consciousness fades, he thinks that if dying is like this he might be ready to never wake up again.  
  
There's a little echo in the back of his drifting mind:   
  
_What if you die?_  
  
And he understands at last that Pavel wasn't expecting him to answer that question. He was trying to tell Hikaru something, and it was important, but it's lost now, all of it pulled away like worn clothes, and Hikaru is naked in the dark.  
  
*  
  
Hikaru's breath rips out of him and he sits up in bed, wondering how much of it was a dream. But none of it was, because he's not alone, and the sleeping boy beside him is unmistakably Pavel, lying on his stomach with his face turned toward Hikaru on his pillow. Hikaru just stares for a long time, getting accustomed to breathing with his twenty-six year old lungs. It's dark in the room, the only light coming from the small window on space, but even in the soft glow he can see that Pavel is so fucking young. He looks almost _raw_ like this, soft skin and tousled curls, his lips pursed in cherubic pout as he sleeps. Hikaru wants desperately to touch him, to slide a hand across the warm flat of his back, but he won't let himself do it, not yet. Just the heat radiating from Pavel's youthful body is enough to make Hikaru feel dizzy and even upset. It's too jarring, and he hasn't even examined his own body yet.  
  
He stumbles out of bed and finds an old, familiar pair of boxer shorts on the floor. It almost chokes a sob out of him, the feeling of the soft cotton and the give of the elastic waistband as he pulls them on. This was his life: these boxer shorts, this room, that sleeping boy. He's not sure whatever became of these shorts, or who is living in this room on the _Enterprise_ now, and as he heads into the en suite bathroom he can hardly remember what went wrong with the boy, how they let what happened to them erase all of this.   
  
He's disoriented, and he shuts himself inside the bathroom to catch his breath. He puts on the light and watches the mirror for a long time, running his hands over his skin and noting the differences. His stomach is tighter and his arms are bigger; he used to work out every day. There's no time for that now that he's a captain. His face is unlined, and he can't stop touching it, looking for the wrinkles around his eyes that aren't there. There's no gray over his ears, and his hair is longer than he allows himself to keep it in the present. The most noticeable difference is that his skin smells like sex, like Pavel.   
  
"Shit," he whispers, rubbing his hands over his face. He has to get over it and pull himself together. He's got a lot of investigating to do, and only twenty-four hours in which to do it.  
  
He turns off the light and creeps back into the room, hoping he'll get to study Pavel for an hour or so as he sleeps, just to get it out of his system before he moves on to more important things. But Pavel is awake when Hikaru walks back into the room, lifting his head from the pillow.   
  
"Hikaru," he says, mumbling, adorably puffy-eyed. "What's wrong?"  
  
"Nothing. I just had to piss." Both of their voices are different. Pavel's is more heavily accented than Hikaru remembers. He stands in the middle of the room, feeling too naked even in his boxer shorts, then snaps out of it and slides back into the bed. His heart is pounding, and he's afraid Pavel will feel it, but he doesn't stop Pavel from moaning and cuddling against him, searching out the most comfortable position before he goes still. His long legs tangle through Hikaru's under the blankets, and Hikaru can't hold back any longer. He wraps Pavel into his arms and kisses his curls, and the soft skin at his hairline. Hikaru's eyes are wet, and he pinches them shut tightly.   
  
"You had another nightmare," Pavel says. He tucks his arm around Hikaru's back and strokes him softly, the scratch of his short fingernails making Hikaru shiver.  
  
"You caught me." Hikaru had forgotten about the nightmares, and the way he tried to hide them from Pavel, because they made him feel weak. Pavel had almost died on a mission six months before this. Hikaru couldn't get it out of his head, the way Pavel had looked when they brought him back. He touches the scar on Pavel's shoulder, and Pavel sighs.   
  
"Stop worrying," he says. He presses gentle kisses to Hikaru's neck, trying to soothe his pounding pulse. "I'm here. I'm not going anywhere."   
  
"Fuck," Hikaru whispers, suddenly not sure he can do this. He squeezes Pavel more tightly against him, until Pavel coughs and laughs.   
  
"Shall I sing you to sleep?" Pavel asks. He licks Hikaru's collarbone and tickles his fingers down Hikaru's spine until he comes to the waistband of the boxer shorts. Hikaru used to hate it when Pavel teased him like this. He can't believe it now, what an insecure child he was back then.  
  
"Yeah, sing for me," he says.   
  
Pavel sits up on an elbow and begins humming something, bits of Russian words poking through as he strokes Hikaru's hair. Hikaru stares at Pavel's skinny chest, then up into his eyes. He's radiating adoration, hoping Pavel can feel it against his skin.   
  
"Translate," Hikaru says. "Is this rock-a-bye baby in Russian?"  
  
"I don't know this rock baby song, but, hmm, maybe. I am telling you not to sleep too close to the edge of the bed, because the little gray wolf might come and take you into the woods."  
  
"Oh, nice. I'm totally comforted."   
  
"This is the nature of Russian child-rearing. We sugarcoat nothing."   
  
"That explains a lot." Hikaru has missed this more than anything: waking up in the middle of the night and whispering to each other for hours. They never got to talk enough during the day, with all of their duties. They traded in sleep for moments like this. It was worth it.  
  
"It's a nice melody, though, yes?" Pavel says. He's still combing Hikaru's hair back from his forehead, still humming a little. "You need a haircut," he says.  
  
"I know." Hikaru is already having a hard time keeping all the things he's not allowed to say from bursting out. It burns, actually hurts, not to be able to tell Pavel how much he misses him, and how much he loved him, but that was something they never said, and Hikaru isn't allowed to fuck with the past.   
  
"Do you think you'd ever cut your hair short?" Hikaru asks. He touches Pavel's curls, digging his fingers in to massage his scalp, something that always made him shudder and smile. It works, and Pavel moans a little, pushing up against Hikaru's hand.   
  
"Short?" Pavel says. "Maybe."  
  
"I mean really short, shorter than Kirk's."   
  
"I don't know." Pavel laughs. "Are you worried? You're more interested in my hair than I've ever been. When my father was older he cut his short, because his curls got wiry. I think my mother wept. You remind me of her sometimes."  
  
"Yeah, I'm always weeping."   
  
"No, no, I mean because these things mean something to you." Pavel is quiet for a moment, and Hikaru draws his hand down to cup his cheek. "I like that you remind me of her," Pavel says. He looks down shyly, drumming his fingers on Hikaru's shoulder.  
  
"You must miss her a lot." They never really talked about this; Hikaru just knew that Pavel's parents were dead, his mother of an undiagnosed heart defect when Pavel was nine years old and his father in an accident at his lab when Pavel was fifteen, away at the Academy. He should stop, but how could talking about Pavel's mother change the future?   
  
"Of course." Pavel flops down to his pillow with a sigh. "Both of them."  
  
"Did your mother sing that song to you when you were little?" Hikaru pulls Pavel against him again, letting him hide his face. This was where Pavel always allowed himself to finally be vulnerable, when he was burrowed in close, sheltered.   
  
"They both did. Mostly my mother, but if she was working late, my father would sing to me, and then, after she died, he sang to me. I got so mad at him the first time he did it. It was the night after the funeral, and I had refused to cry. I was angry at her for dying and angry at him for surviving. I remember, I was lying on my stomach in bed, and I had my pillowcase in my fist, like this." He takes a fistful of Hikaru's boxer shorts to demonstrate, pulling them tight.   
  
"My father sat down on the bed beside me, and I tried to ignore him. Already I had tears welling up in my eyes, but I didn't want anyone to see me cry, I think because I felt that if I cried it meant she was really gone, all of it was real. He started singing that song and I sat up and screamed at him, I told him he was stupid and I was too old for that stupid song, and that I'd never liked it, ever. He had cried, I knew, but he had avoided breaking down in front of me until that moment. He put his hands over his face and he sounded so young and small and weak, and I hated him for it at first, but then I -- I put my arms around him and we both cried so hard. It is a good memory, in a strange way. I felt like my mother was there, proud of us. She always lectured us when we tried not to show our feelings. She said that was a weak thing to do, pretending. After that, sometimes when I was sad and my father came to tell me goodnight, I would put my face in my pillow and mumble that I wanted to hear the wolf song. No matter how quietly I asked, he always understood, and he would sing it for me. The night before I left for the Academy, when I was fourteen, he came into my room when he thought I was asleep and he sang it, very softly. I pretended not to notice, like I was still asleep. After he died, oh. I would give anything to go back in time and sit up in bed, hug him, tell him how glad I was for that last song. God, Hikaru." Pavel laughs a little, wetly. "Why am I telling you all of this?"  
  
"Because somebody needs to know all of your stories." Hikaru is shaking. He hopes Pavel is too absorbed in his memories to notice.  
  
"Why does somebody need to know?"  
  
"Because, I guess, well. There should be one person in the universe who you don't have to hide anything from." He's such a hypocrite. He kept so many things from Pavel: his fears about how much they needed each other, the depth of his feelings, and his stories of childhood, the ones that would have spoiled the illusion that he was an implacable warrior.  
  
"Do I know all of your stories?" Pavel asks. Hikaru can't stop picturing Pavel as a child, trying hard to be angry when really he was so sad he could barely breathe.   
  
"Not yet."   
  
"But you'll tell me? Everything about your past? I have envisioned this happy childhood for you, Hikaru. Interrogating your sisters' boyfriends, your father teaching you how to drive a car, your mother teaching you how to plant tulips."  
  
"Jesus." Hikaru rears back a bit, shocked. "You've really given it that much thought?"  
  
Pavel sniffs and smiles, narrowing his eyes.   
  
"Stupid," he says softly. "You don't know that I think about you?"  
  
"Well -- sure, but. Tulips, I. I didn't know there were visions of tulips." All that Pavel has imagined is pretty far from the truth, but Hikaru doesn't want to spoil the fantasy now. He wants Pavel to invent his past, to tell him all about it.   
  
"It's dumb, I know," Pavel says.  
  
"It's not dumb. God, there's nothing better than the idea of occupying space in your mind." He taps Pavel's temple, trying to make a joke of it. He can't change anything, he can't make this matter. "There's a lot going on in there. I'm lucky to get a second thought."   
  
Pavel lies still for awhile, stroking Hikaru's collarbone and the hollow of this throat with one finger. Hikaru wants to tell him everything, everything.   
  
"How about, instead of the past, I tell you about my future?" he says. Pavel snorts.  
  
"You know the future now, Hikaru?"  
  
"As a matter of fact, I do." Pavel will just think he's joking. It's safe to do at least this much.   
  
"Are we married with two space children?"   
  
"Nope."   
  
"Retired at forty, chasing rabbits out of the vegetable garden?"  
  
"I wish."   
  
"You wish? So our future is disappointing?"  
  
"Mhmm, well. There's the war."  
  
"Of course there's the war, there's the war even now."   
  
"Yeah, but. It splits us apart." He's off the rails already, playing with the fabric of time. But this is Pavel, his Pavel, and Pavel has always been bigger than the rest of the universe, more essential.   
  
"Hikaru," Pavel says, frowning. He pinches Hikaru's side. "Don't joke like that."   
  
"How do you know I'm joking?" Pavel will forget this, anyway. He's half asleep.  
  
"Because – what – how could you not be joking? And you're saying one of us will die."  
  
"I never said that."   
  
"You said the war would separate us!"  
  
"And the only thing that could separate us would be death?"  
  
"Well." Pavel frowns. "Yes!"  
  
Hikaru doesn't know how to continue, or how to stop himself from kissing Pavel so hard that they both come away from it panting. He can't believe how well he remembers this even after going for so long without it, the taste of Pavel's lips and the hot rush of his breath. Pavel stares at Hikaru with hooded eyes, searching him for something.  
  
“What's wrong?” Pavel whispers.  
  
“Nothing. It's just – the nightmare I had. I dreamed about the future. That you didn't love me anymore, that everything had changed.”   
  
“That could never happen.”  
  
“Yes, it could. I could screw up, you could stop loving me.”   
  
“Hikaru.” Pavel looks so wounded, and Hikaru has got to stop this now. Nothing here can change. He's walking through an oil painting, a memory. Pavel isn't really here with him, he's on a space station in Ekbanta, sitting alone in his hotel room and thinking about what a fool Hikaru is to humor Kirk, to go along with this plan. This Pavel is just a photograph of the past, and it's cruel to hurt him like this, useless to try and warn him about what's to come.   
  
“Are you trying to tell me something?” Pavel asks, forcing a laugh, and Hikaru shakes his head and holds Pavel's face in his hands, marveling at how real he feels, how alive. Everything they're doing has already happened; back in the real world, this is just the lingering light from a dead star, far away.   
  
“You can't blame me for being afraid I'll lose you,” Hikaru says.  
  
“Yes, I can.” Pavel strokes the backs of Hikaru's hands with his thumbs. “Have some faith in me.”  
  
They get out of bed and have a shower together, still half-asleep under the hot water. Alpha shift begins in two hours; Hikaru has memorized the day's schedule based on Kirk's logs. He takes his time washing Pavel's skin, quiet and reverent as Pavel moans softly, his head on Hikaru's shoulder.   
  
“So gentle with me after your nightmares,” Pavel says, his hand sliding down Hikaru's back to rest on his ass. “Like I am a breakable little thing in the real world, too.”  
  
Hikaru isn't sure what he wants to scream more: _This isn't the real world_ or _You_ are _a breakable little thing, you're going to shatter into a thousand pieces_. He just kisses Pavel's wet curls and closes the washcloth he's using around Pavel's erection, which is poking him in the stomach. Pavel tips his head back and grins.   
  
“Don't be too gentle with that,” he says. Pavel always liked rough sex, and Hikaru would feel so guilty after letting Pavel egg him on until he was grunting like a maniac and leaving fingertip-sized bruises on Pavel's hips. He would cuddle and coo over Pavel afterward, and Pavel would laugh at him, but Hikaru knew he liked it, that he needed it.   
  
He drops to his knees and looks up at Pavel, openly worshiping him, because this Pavel is already gone, and he won't ever use this against him the way Hikaru feared he would back then. They both held so much back. They were young and afraid of each other, with good reason. Now, here, there's nothing to be afraid of, and when Pavel bumps the head of his cock against Hikaru's lips, Hikaru opens for him and takes him in deep, showing him how much he needs this, how he's willing to do anything, on his knees, helpless for how good it feels just to suck Pavel's dick. He's drooling and moaning for it, his hands braced on Pavel's thighs. Pavel breathes hard through his nose and fucks Hikaru's mouth in slow, measured snaps of his hips, hissing through his teeth when Hikaru's throat opens for him.   
  
“Yeah, oh,” Pavel moans. “Like that, like that, just like that, _yeah_.”   
  
Hikaru forgot about this, Pavel's tendency to blurt out a litany of encouragement when he found the right spots. _Right there, right there, right there_ was always his favorite, when Hikaru was pounding Pavel's prostate, holding him up off the mattress by his ankles. Pavel would get almost panicked when Hikaru connected with that spot, like he was terrified that Hikaru would stop fucking him _just like that_.  
  
Pavel moans out a stream of Russian curses when he comes, and Hikaru pretends that he's saying _swallow it all, cocksucker, I know you love the taste of my come_. He's so hard he can barely stand as Pavel pulls him up for a kiss, and when Pavel spins around and flattens his hands against the shower wall, Hikaru doesn't hesitate to take the cue, whipped into an old-fashioned frenzy. Only Pavel ever did this to him. Hikaru hasn't had sex in years, not for lack of opportunity but just because nothing ever came close to this, and when he sinks into Pavel's tight heat he cries out in something like pain, remembering this thing that he lost. He covers Pavel's body with his, pressing him to the wall of the shower, both of them breathing hard in the steamy air.   
  
“You're shaking,” Pavel says.   
  
“I'm just, I --”   
  
Pavel was always calling him out when it came to things like this. It hurt Hikaru, then annoyed him, then finally enraged him, when Pavel truly used it against him as things were falling apart.  
  
“Hikaru,” Pavel whispers, and he reaches back to palm Hikaru's ass softly. He strokes Hikaru's wet skin as if to tell him that it's okay, he can shake all he wants, or maybe that he even likes it, but either way it soothes over Hikaru's reopened wounds, and he sighs as he presses his face to Pavel's neck.   
  
“I'm gonna taste you on my tongue all day,” he whispers. “And you're gonna feel this.” He snaps his hips and Pavel moans, his grip on Hikaru's ass tightening.   
  
“You're going to feel how I opened you,” Hikaru whispers, giving Pavel another thrust, deep and slow this time. “And it's going to sting just a little, 'cause we used shampoo for lube, but it'll feel good, it'll remind you of how well my cock stretched you.”   
  
“God, yes,” Pavel whispers. He puts both hands on the shower wall, up over his head, and Hikaru pins them there, fucking Pavel with sharp, shallow jerks of his hips.   
  
“All day, Pavel,” Hikaru says. He licks Pavel's ear, then bites at it softly. “All day long, you're gonna feel how hard I fucked you. Sitting there at the conn, talking to Kirk, giving me coordinates – you're gonna be thinking about my dick pushing in and pulling out, how good it feels to get opened wide, to take it and take it until I fill your ass up with my come like it belongs to me.”   
  
“Fuck, Hikaru,” Pavel laughs in a huff, his hips itching back against Hikaru's. Hikaru never talked to him like this when they were together; he was too embarrassed, too afraid Pavel would make fun of him. He's had a long time to build up his dirty talk repertoire, years and years of fantasizing about what he would say to Pavel if he could.  
  
“It does belong to me, doesn't it? This tight, hot asshole. It's mine, isn't it, Pavel?”  
  
“ _Unh_ , yes.” Pavel's hands curl to fists under Hikaru's. “Harder, please,” he says, his voice breaking. This is new, too, Pavel begging.   
  
“All mine,” Hikaru says, leaning back to watch his dick slide in and out of Pavel's grasping hole as he speeds up his pace, close to the edge that Pavel always pushed him over, even when neither of them formed a single coherent word during sex.   
  
“Yours,” Pavel whispers, surrendered, shaking harder than Hikaru now. “Show me, fill me, hold me down and make me take it.”  
  
Hikaru growls and starts fucking him hard. Of course Pavel is better at this than he is, better at driving him crazy, leading the _sex conversation_ Hikaru has fantasized about so many times, but Pavel was always better at everything and Hikaru doesn't care. He comes with a shout, pinning Pavel to the wall by his shoulders and leaning back to work his dick in as deep as he can, understanding from Pavel's gasping and rutting that he's coming, too, his dick going off against the wall of the shower. When they're through Hikaru slumps against Pavel's back, and Pavel goes soft beneath him, half-formed words rasping in the back of his throat but not quite making it past his lips.   
  
“What has gotten into you?” Pavel finally manages to say, laughing a little. Hikaru gives him a slobbering kiss on the cheek and pulls out slowly, trying not to think about how this might be the last time.   
  
“Was it that much better than usual?” Hikaru asks. Pavel grins and turns around, his chest still heaving and his eyelids heavy as he takes Hikaru in.  
  
“It was like a dirty poem,” Pavel says. “I didn't know you had it in you.”   
  
“You underestimate me,” Hikaru says, stepping under the water to rinse his sweat away.  
  
“Maybe,” Pavel says, still smiling. He winds his arms around Hikaru's waist and gives him what might be interpreted as a worshipful gaze. “Also, I love you,” he says.   
  
Hikaru tries to remember if Pavel ever said that out loud to him in the past. Maybe he's already messing things up, being too sloppy. He kisses Pavel, wondering how the world might change if he tells him that he loves him, too. It's not like Pavel doesn't already know, not like he didn't know all along, and what difference did it make then?  
  
“I'm never going to love anyone as much as I love you,” Hikaru whispers in Pavel's ear, because it's true. Pavel moans happily and gives his waist a squeeze.  
  
They dry off and dress, and while Pavel is eating breakfast Hikaru takes some time to wander around the room, taking everything in, touching his old possessions. Some things he still has in his quarters on the _Reliant_ , but others are long gone. He touches each of the plants he kept on the shelf over his desk, rubbing the fuzz on their leaves between his thumb and forefinger. Even Pavel's breakfast routine makes Hikaru's heart ache, familiar and long lost: the bagel loaded with cream cheese, a mini-donut with powdered sugar, and three fat strawberries from Hikaru's greenhouse garden. Hikaru pretended to be allergic to them when he saw Pavel's eyes bug out at the sight of them during that first tour of the greenhouse, three months after they left Earth for the five-year mission. He was still courting Pavel then, and wanted an excuse to give him every precious strawberry he harvested, so he could watch Pavel's eyelashes flutter with pleasure as he ate them. He never did tell him the truth, that he's not allergic, and that he actually loves them, too. He loved watching Pavel eat them more, and the very act of giving them to him, every single one.   
  
“You haven't noticed anyone on the bridge behaving suspiciously, have you?” Hikaru asks.  
  
“Suspicious like what?”  
  
“I don't know. Never mind.” Hikaru shouldn't have said anything, but he's beginning to get nervous about the chances of coming across any useful evidence in the next twenty-two hours. Pavel is frowning when Hikaru sits across from him at the small table.  
  
“Hikaru,” he says. “What are you talking about?”  
  
“Nothing, I just – sometimes I wonder how easy it would be to get to sensitive information, if you knew what you were doing, you know, on the network.”  
  
“Why, are you plotting a takeover?”  
  
“Ha. I just think sometimes – well. The Federation can't promise anything that you can't get from replicator as compensation for its officers, except for honor and respect, and some people don't care about those things, even some people who enlist in Starfleet.”   
  
Pavel just stares at him for a moment. There's a smear of powdered sugar on his bottom lip, and Hikaru wants to lick it away.   
  
“You suspect someone?” Pavel says.  
  
“No – you know what got me thinking about this? That nightmare I had.”  
  
“This must have been quite a nightmare. I wake up and suddenly you're making prophecies and hunting spies and talking like a porn movie during sex. Not that I am complaining about that part.”   
  
“You don't believe in prophetic dreams?”  
  
“Of course not, Hikaru! Who do you think you're talking to here?” They've had arguments about leaps of faith before. Hikaru believes in God. When he was a teenager, just after he got his pilot's license, he was flying a prop plane when a sudden thunderstorm blew in and almost swatted him out of the sky. Hikaru doesn't believe in God because he survived, but because while he was up there, in the noise and the wind and the density of those black clouds, he knew. It was like he was standing right next to the biggest, most solid thing that ever existed in any universe, and it's easy to refer to that as God, but whatever it is, he was certain in that moment that he wasn't alone in the sky. Pavel won't even remotely entertain the idea. He looks at Hikaru like he's crazy if he tries to explain why he believes.   
  
“Well.” Hikaru leans up over to table to lick the sugar from Pavel's lip. “Forget it. Maybe I'll take a sleeping pill tonight, so I won't dream.” He wishes he could tell Pavel the truth, that he'll never wake up in this world again anyway. He puts his elbows on the table and watches Pavel eat his strawberries slowly, savoring them.  
  
“It's a shame you can't have some of these,” Pavel says, licking the juice from his lips.  
  
They walk to the bridge, and Hikaru is so preoccupied with thoughts of his mission that he doesn't anticipate the shock of seeing the crew as they were, young and happy, Uhura trying not to laugh as Kirk teases her about getting sick on Cupcake's shoes at a party the night before. Spock is standing nearby, frowning sternly, and Hikaru almost drops to his knees when he remembers: Uhura was already pregnant, though she didn't know yet, or maybe just hadn't told anyone. She'd lose the baby just four months later, in the same attack that killed McCoy. Hikaru stands in the middle of the bridge with his hands at his sides, frozen with grief, frustration, anger. Everyone here has so little time left to enjoy anything resembling happiness.   
  
“Hey, _Enterprise_ to Lieutenant Sulu,” Kirk says, walking over to Hikaru. He's sporting the grin he could always flash easily before McCoy died, looking much more than ten years younger, his eyes bright and sparkling in that old mischievous way. “You look a little peaky, Mr. Sulu,” he says. “Everything alright?”  
  
“Yes, Juh-- sir,” Hikaru says. He hasn't called Kirk by anything but his first name in awhile. “I didn't sleep very well last night, but I'm fine.”   
  
“Uh-oh, do I need to speak to my navigator about allowing my pilot to get his rest?” Kirk says with a wink, and Hikaru laughs, whereas the old him, the person he should be parroting, would have groaned and hurried away. Kirk always used to tease Hikaru and Pavel for being in love and for having a lot of sex, the source of this being the day McCoy walked in on Pavel riding Hikaru in his sick bay bed while Hikaru was laid up with a partially-reconstructed leg. Hikaru had never been more embarrassed in his life, particularly since Pavel didn't notice McCoy until after he had answered Hikaru's panicked _Pavel!_ by breathlessly moaning Hikaru's name and riding him harder.   
  
The work day is fairly routine; it was chosen for this reason, to give Hikaru plenty of time to dig around on his computer and keep an eye on the bridge activity. As the hours tick away and no obvious signs present themselves, he begins to feel panicked, and he works through lunch, though his eyes burn when he thinks about the fact that he's giving up an hour with Pavel. He looks around the bridge and sees that even Kirk has left for lunch in the mess. Hikaru would love to spend the afternoon with his friends as they were, laughing and passing each other chips, talking intergalatic politics, but he can't give in to temptation, not even for the chance that McCoy might join them. He just hopes he'll get a chance to see McCoy before he leaves, though he knows it will will rip him apart, not being able to tell him what Kirk couldn't articulate in the temple.   
  
Hikaru sighs and stretches his arms over his head, and that's when he notices that he's not the only member of the alpha shift crew who stayed on the bridge through lunch. Tyson Walker is working furiously at the communication station, absorbed in something. Hikaru starts to turn back to his own station, then frowns and looks at Tyson again. He's in Uhura's chair. It's not something that would normally be noticeable, but Uhura's chair is the highest one at the comm station, something that Kirk always gave her a hard time about, though she insisted it was only because adjusting her chair to the highest setting helped her maintain good posture. Hikaru watches Tyson for a bit longer, but can't see what he's doing. He turns back to his computer and brings up Tyson's personnel file on the network. He's American, from one of those reparation colonies that were created when the underground cities were evacuated at the turn of the century. There had been widespread corruption underground, unsafe living conditions, a budding slave trade and a shadow government. Everyone who didn't die in the Sector Seven collapse of 2245 was brought up, and it was chaotic for awhile, but eventually they were provided above-ground living accommodations, and Academy graduates like Tyson are considered examples that the survivors of the underground disaster are beginning to find their feet in the real world.   
  
“What are you reading about?” someone asks, and Hikaru jumps out of his skin. Gaila laughs and slaps her hands over her mouth, stepping back.  
  
“Sorry!” she says. “I didn't mean to sneak up on you. Pavel said you were working through lunch, and I just wanted to tell you that I got my mom's shipment of florian bulbs if you want to come pick them up after your shift.”   
  
Gaila always supplied Hikaru with protected Orion specimens when she could, and in general was his partner in crime in the greenhouse, helping him with hybrid experiments and day-to-day fertilizing duties. With anyone else, Hikaru would restrain himself, lest he blow his cover, but Gaila never found anything about physical affection suspicious or unwelcome, so he jumps out of his chair and throws his arms around her, squeezing her to him.  
  
“Thank you, thank you,” he says, rocking her a little. In five years, the girl who is laughing in his arms, the brightest light in the room, will be dead. He wants to tell her to marry Scotty now, not to wait until the crew is disbanded. He's missed her so much.   
  
“Aw, no problem, hon!” She hugs him back just as enthusiastically, as if it's been years since she's seen him, not just a day or so. Hikaru stands back and holds her by the shoulders, his mouth working but no words coming. He'd forgotten how beautiful she was. He wants to gush and gossip with her like old times, wants to pull out his PADD and show her the pictures of her in her wedding gown that he still looks at from time to time, but that PADD is in the future, in the ruined world where those pictures are all that he has left of his friend.   
  
“So, are you swamped with work?” Gaila asks, gesturing to Hikaru's computer. Hikaru glances at Tyson, and he's back in his own chair now, but still absorbed in whatever he's working on, hunched around his data screen.   
  
“Yeah, but – not too busy to gossip for a minute, if you want.”  
  
Gaila rolls her eyes. “Like you even need to ask. What have you got?” She grabs Pavel's empty chair and pulls it over, scooting close.   
  
“What do you know about Tyson Walker?” Hikaru asks, flicking his head toward Tyson.   
  
“Not much,” Gaila says, whispering. “Why? What have you heard?”  
  
“Oh, nothing, I was just – someone told me that he came from one of those underground cities, you know, when he was a kid. And I guess he's an orphan, because of that?”   
  
“Oh, yeah, super tragic,” Gaila says. “He kind of keeps to himself, doesn't date anyone, doesn't come to game nights, you know. He makes Spock look like a social butterfly. Poor guy.”  
  
“Uh-huh. Do you know anything about his side projects?”  
  
“Hmm, well, he's a communications expert, and the only time I see him in the rec room is when he's using the long-range radios, you know, researching stray broadcasts and such – the kind of stuff Uhura does for fun.”   
  
“Interesting.” Hikaru drums his fingers on the conn, his heart pounding. It's not fair, that he might figure this out and still be much too late to save Gaila, McCoy, Spock and Uhura's baby.   
  
“What's wrong?” Gaila asks, leaning forward to put her hands on Hikaru's knees. “Tyson's not trying to steal Pavel or something, is he?”  
  
“Oh – no.” Though, yes, if Tyson is the traitor, that's exactly what he did. Whoever did this stole all of them from Hikaru, everything that mattered.   
  
“Well, we'll talk more at dinner,” Gaila says, popping up from Pavel's chair with a grin. “I've got to drop in to engineering before I get back to my shift.” She winks, and Hikaru smiles, though he feels like sobbing, pulling her back, begging her to stay. She had just started seeing Scotty in secret, thinking he would want it that way, lest he be embarrassed about dating an Orion girl, Kirk's castoff, the girl most people assumed would service anyone who showed up at her door. Meanwhile, Scotty thought Gaila would be embarrassed to be seen with him, the dorky older man who was losing the last of his hair. Hikaru wants to tell Gaila that Scotty is already so proud of her, that he tells Pavel he wants to marry her every time they drink together, but he can't change any of it and Gaila is already gone, giving Hikaru a smile and a wave as the doors of the lift close in front of her.   
  
Hikaru turns his gaze back to Tyson. He's been staring for a fair amount of time before Tyson sits back and closes the files he was working on. He looks over both shoulders, and Hikaru quickly turns back to his own computer, his jaw clenching and his hands curling into fists on the conn. Tyson stayed on the _Enterprise_ despite several opportunities for promotion, and he still has Uhura's old job on Kirk's bridge. The promotions he was offered weren't so dramatic that anyone thought much of his turning them down; it wasn't so uncommon to want to continue working for a captain who you'd been under for a long time. But Tyson is a serious person, not very interested in personal relationships with his fellow crew. He's always kissed Kirk's ass like an ambitious lieutenant might, but when the promotions came, he wasn't interested.   
  
Hikaru's throat seems to narrow as more memories flood back to him: McCoy's funeral. In the bathroom at the reception, Hikaru had pushed in to splash some water on his face, overwhelmed. Things were falling apart with Pavel, the crew of the _Enterprise_ was being divvied up among the fleet, and Kirk was nearly comatose with grief. Hikaru was shaking, upset, and when he found Tyson Walker in the bathroom, leaning over the counter and panting, sweating, it hadn't seemed so strange. Everyone was shaken deeply. But Tyson – Tyson had _hated_ McCoy. Kirk has a way of dealing with uptight guys like Tyson – it's the reason Kirk's friendship with Spock was able to flourish despite their differences – but McCoy wasn't interested in pandering to crew in order to win friends. He once forced Tyson to take two days of mental health leave because Tyson had cracked his back teeth from grinding them so vigorously in his sleep. Tyson was furious, insisting that there was nothing wrong with him, that the teeth-grinding was not a sign of long term debilitating stress, just the result of a single bad dream, but McCoy held his ground and the whole thing culminated in a shouting match in sick bay. Chapel told Gaila who told Hikaru. He'd shrugged it off as two strong personalities clashing, but that was just two months before the time Hikaru is visiting now. If Tyson was passing information he would have needed every opportunity to use the comm station with relative privacy, which was not a common circumstance, since Uhura often worked through lunch. It was when she got pregnant that she started leaving her station for food or rest –   
  
“Hikaru!”  
  
He jumps and turns to see Pavel staring at him, looking concerned. The alpha shift crew is filing back in, the lunch break almost over.   
  
“Are you sick?” Pavel asks, pressing the back of his hand to Hikaru's forehead. “I was calling your name just now – you do feel a little warm.”  
  
“I'm okay,” Hikaru says. He's not, he's not okay with the fact that he's here, before it all happened, and he still can't _fix this_. He spends most of the rest of the shift furiously searching the network for anything he can find about Tyson Walker, the underground cities, and political unrest among the relocated victims. By the time his shift ends he feels certain that it's been Tyson all along, and he wants to tell everyone, all of these people who are not just doomed but already gone. He feels like he's walking through a carnival fun house, crashing into mirrors, trapped by the illusion that he can turn a corner only to find more mirrors waiting.   
  
“Want to go for a swim?” Pavel asks when they head toward the lift after their shift. Hikaru intentionally hangs back so that they can get on the lift with Tyson, whose shift has also ended. As usual, Tyson stands staring straight ahead with his arms folded in front of him, not engaging anyone in conversation. There's so much happy chatter going on in the lift that one quiet person is easy to miss.   
  
“Hikaru!” Pavel smacks his arm. “What's wrong with you? Did you hear my question?”  
  
“Oh – swimming, um, sure. I just have to talk to Uhura first.”  
  
“Talk to her about what?”   
  
“I'll tell you later. Just – meet me at the pool in an hour, okay?”  
  
Pavel looks annoyed, but he nods. As he walks off toward their room, Hikaru checks over his shoulder to make sure that Tyson isn't headed in the same direction, as if he might suddenly go rogue and decide to kill Pavel. He follows Tyson, but as he suspected, Tyson just goes to his room and shuts himself inside. His breath coming fast, Hikaru hurries to the room Uhura shares with Spock. He rings the bell, and it's Spock who answers the door. Hikaru curses inwardly; he was hoping not to involve Spock. He's already treading dangerous water with the digging he's doing.

*

“Lieutenant Sulu,” Spock says. “Can I help you?”  
  
“Is Nyota around? I need to speak to her. It won't take long.”  
  
“Of course. Please, come in. Nyota is in the shower, but she'll be out momentarily.”  
  
“Ah – okay.”   
  
Hikaru takes a seat in the lounge area of Spock and Nyota's quarters. Their place is three times the size of Hikaru and Pavel's, because of Spock's position on the ship. Spock sits across from Hikaru in a pristine white chair, and they smile tightly at each other. Hikaru never really knows where to begin when it comes to small talk with Spock.  
  
“What's that?” he asks, gesturing to a pile of yarn on the table beside Spock's chair.  
  
“That is a project Nyota is working on,” Spock says.  
  
“What kind of project?” Uhura was never big on crafts, as far as he remembers.   
  
“I believe it is a decorative but not especially functional blanket for an infant. A human tradition. I had one myself, made for me by my mother, and though it is a somewhat illogical gesture, considering the availability of more expertly constructed blankets –”  
  
“Spock, are you telling him?” Uhura asks, appearing in the doorway of their bedroom, her long hair down around her shoulders, damp from the shower. She's wearing black sweatpants and a thin t-shirt, and Hikaru has never seen her look so casual. She also looks slightly ill, tired, but happy, too, smiling.  
  
“I believe we discussed the possibility of telling our friends and came to the conclusion that –”  
  
“I'm pregnant,” Uhura says, beaming at Hikaru. He jumps up from his chair, trying to ignore the cramping feeling in his stomach as he crosses the room to embrace her. Uhura laughs and bounces a little in his arms.  
  
“Not planned, exactly, but not unwanted,” Uhura says as Hikaru shakes Spock's hand to congratulate him. “It will be crazy – I have no idea what this will mean for our careers, but. We're excited.” She grins and slips her arm around Spock's waist, and he looks down at her with the softened expression that Hikaru only ever saw Uhura bring out of him.   
  
“That's amazing, you guys.” He's going to lose his composure and soon, but it's not going to take the form of tears. He feels like he's going to start pulling his hair out. None of them really considered what cruel torture this would be, going back only to change nothing. It's like waking and waking and waking again from a good dream, remembering reality.   
  
Spock retires to the bedroom to read, giving Uhura and Hikaru privacy. Uhura offers Hikaru a drink, and he could really use a strong one, but he shakes it off. He's got a job to finish, even if it only means saving people in the future, not these people, his people, in the past.   
  
"What do you know about Lieutenant Walker?" Hikaru asks, and Uhura frowns.   
  
"Tyson? He's a hard worker, a smart guy, but personally I find him a little pushy. Why?"  
  
"I saw him at your work station today, during lunch," Hikaru says, dropping his voice even lower, scooting closer to her. "Is there any reason why he would need to do that? I just thought it was strange, and he seemed nervous – he didn't linger there for long."  
  
"Hikaru." Uhura rears back, laughing a little. "What are you suggesting?"  
  
"Just – just tell me, is there any reason he would be at your work station?"  
  
"Well." Uhura looks away, chewing her lip. "I suppose, if we were flagged, yeah. Were we being flagged?"  
  
"Hell no, it was the dullest shift in ages, nobody flagged us."  
  
"Then, well." Uhura sighs, her brow still creased. "I don't know – you think he was snooping through my personal files? Why?"  
  
"Not – not personal, I just know that you're our chief communications officer, and – is there anything you have access to on your station that he can't access from his?"  
  
"I – well – nothing that would – Hikaru, what are you getting at?"  
  
"Just – think, Nyota, what's different about your stations? There must be something."  
  
"Well, my station has priority when we're flagged, and just in general, anything that attempts to get the attention of the _Enterprise_ goes through me first, Tyson second, then on down through the auxiliary stations."   
  
"And if Tyson somehow – tweaked something that made it so that he was flagged first, if he didn't answer that, you would then get the second attempt at your station – and would you know that he had seen the communication first? Would there be some indication?"  
  
"Hikaru, you're really confusing me."   
  
"Why? Do you need me to repeat the question? I'm just asking –"  
  
"Well, no, I wouldn't know that someone else had seen the communication first, there's no – that's not the way the system works, it's only in place so that if one station gets jammed the others might still be able to receive. Transmissions that make it through to one station but not others don't provide a list the other stations they've attempted to contact. But why are you asking this, what's going on?"  
  
"Nothing, I just wanted to know more about the system." Hikaru has been so sloppy, but now he's sure about Tyson. He was attempting to tweak Uhura's station so that he would see transmissions before anyone else on the bridge, allowing him to alert the people he's working for while the rest of the _Enterprise_ is still in the dark. He gets up from the chair and heads for the door.  
  
"Where are you going?" Uhura asks, hurrying after him. "Hikaru. Hikaru! What is going on?"  
  
"Nothing is going on, I promise." He smiles as benevolently as he can, his lips shaking. "Listen, congratulations. About the baby, I mean. Can I tell Pavel?"  
  
"Ah – of course you can tell him, but –"  
  
"I'll see you later – I'm sorry to rush out, but I'm supposed to meet Pavel at the gym."  
  
Hikaru gets away as quickly as he can, his mind spinning. If there were some way he could go back now, to tell Kirk this information as soon as possible, before another life is taken because of what Tyson has done – but no, no, he's still got things he wants to accomplish here, though they won't change the world. Hikaru has no doubt about Tyson now, and he knows the investigation Kirk launches will uncover years of traitorous, murderous history. He has to lean against a wall to catch his breath, and takes two wrong turns on the way to the gym, hardly able to think straight.   
  
When he finally gets there, the locker room is empty and quiet, one of the showers dripping into a puddle on the tile. Hikaru goes to his locker and laughs when he remembers the combination, tears pricking at the corners of his eyes. Certainly, Tyson suffered because of what happened in the underground cities. It's true, a historical fact, that the Federation waited much too long to fully investigate and intervene. But, God, what one person's anger can cost the world. Uhura's baby. Hikaru's knees give out and he slumps the floor, resting his forehead against the cold metal of his locker, his breath fogging its surface.   
  
He manages to get his swim suit on, and wearing less clothing feels good; his uniform was sweat-stained after the stress of the day and felt too tight. He walks out into the pool area, which is one of the 'sky-scaped' areas of the ship, with fake windows that look out on a fake night sky, a moon shining bright enough to provide light to the pool, which is never lit artificially. The areas with these windows that are actually just screens projecting very realistic-looking images are meant to keep everyone from going stir-crazy in space, and while the fake windows are creepy when one of them is blinking with static, when they're working, it's very effective, and Hikaru feels enveloped by a quiet, cloudless night as he walks out to the pool. It's dinner time and the whole place is empty except for Pavel, who is usually swimming furious laps when Hikaru meets him here, cooling down after a run. Today, he's just hanging on the edge in the shallow end, his chin resting on his folded arms.   
  
"Am I late?" Hikaru asks. He sits down beside Pavel and puts his legs in the water. The temperature is perfect, and the smell of the chlorine makes him shiver with intense nostalgia. He always loved it here, especially when the place was empty, no lifeguard on duty. They made a habit of coming here during the peak hours at the mess hall, when they could count on having the whole place to themselves, not for anything sexual but just for the sanctuary. They would race each other across the lanes and do flips into the deep end.   
  
"You are late, yes," Pavel says. He takes Hikaru's ankle and tugs on it. Hikaru drops into the pool and wraps around Pavel from behind, resting his chin on Pavel's shoulder.   
  
"Sorry," he says. The smell of Pavel's skin coupled with the chlorine could inspire Hikaru to launch a thousand ships. "I had to talk to Uhura."  
  
"About what?"  
  
"I was worried about her, she seemed stressed. But guess what? She's going to have a baby." It hurts to say so, and Hikaru squeezes Pavel closer, needing the comfort.   
  
"A baby?" Hikaru can hear Pavel's smile. "What – how? Why?"  
  
Hikaru snorts. "Which of those questions do you want me to answer first? I think all of the answers basically amount to 'Spock mounted her,' though."  
  
"Ew, Hikaru, no!"  
  
"You can't handle the truth?"  
  
Hikaru tickles Pavel under the water and they both laugh, but then Pavel launches away from him, swimming fast and turning back only when he's in the middle of the pool. Hikaru rests his elbows on the edge of the pool and watches him, feeling so heavy in this incorporeal place. He wishes that the real Pavel, who has known all the intervening years, could be here beside him and see this, the way he was when he was young and beautiful and still full of hope, whatever he had to say about faith.   
  
Pavel swims to the other end of the pool, and Hikaru just watches, too tired to follow. Pavel comes back to him slowly, avoiding his eyes until they're right on top of each other.   
  
"Something is going on with you," Pavel says, just barely short of breath. He holds on to Hikaru's hips, drifting in front of him like one of the Bythults who brought Hikaru here, his skin almost as translucent-pale as theirs in this light.  
  
"Maybe," Sulu says. He rubs his hand through Pavel's wet hair. "But it'll pass." He reaches down between Pavel's legs and lifts him up with just one hand, the water doing the rest of the work. Pavel yelps and blushes when Hikaru gives him a squeeze, his thumb snug over Pavel's soft cock and his fingers gripping Pavel's ass. He hoists him up a little higher and Pavel gasps, his pupils growing fat and his hands sliding onto Hikaru's shoulders.  
  
"I don't know if I like you like this," Pavel says. He leans down to put his nose against the tip of Hikaru's, and neither of them blinks, for a moment unafraid of their connection, the bone-deep thing that presses the air from their lungs when they really look into each other's eyes.   
  
"Like what?" Hikaru asks.   
  
"Like the way you are today, secretive and intense." Pavel squirms in Hikaru's grip, his legs winding around Hikaru's waist under the water. "I think there is something about that dream you had that you are not telling me."  
  
"Well, it's still just a dream. So what does it matter?"  
  
Pavel's mouth quirks and he stares at Hikaru for a bit longer before sighing and wrapping his arms around Hikaru's neck, pressing his cheek to Hikaru's. Hikaru shifts to hold him with two hands, pressing Pavel's thighs more tightly to his sides.   
  
"I feel strange today, too," Pavel says. The pool is eerily quiet, fake clouds moving slowly past the fake windows, casting real shadows on the water, which is still sloshing gently against the side of the pool, disturbed by Pavel's swim.   
  
"It'll be okay," Hikaru says.  
  
" _What_ will be okay?"  
  
"Everything."  
  
"Why do I feel like you're lying?"  
  
"Well, because I don't really know for sure, do I?"  
  
"Yes, but I feel like you do and that you're --" Pavel sits back and frowns. He touches Hikaru's face as if to make sure that everything is there where he left it: Hikaru's lips, his cheekbones, his eyebrows. Hikaru isn't sure what to say. He feels like he could actually tell Pavel what's really happening here, that he _should_. He doesn't know to deal with this without Pavel's input.  
  
"C'mon," he says. "I'll race you."   
  
He wants to stay in this twenty-six year old body forever, especially when he's cutting through the water, still not as fast as Pavel but so much stronger than he is in the present, particularly in his arms. Every day after shift they would go to the gym, Hikaru to practice fencing or just lift, Pavel to run and run and run around the track that circles the basketball court, until the energy that made his leg bounce while sitting on the bridge all day was somewhat spent. The rest of the gym rats would hit the showers and file off for dinner, and Hikaru and Pavel would head for the pool. It was Hikaru's second favorite part of the day, the first being the hot shower in their room after the pool, where they'd make each other hard before stumbling to the bed, still damp.   
  
They do laps, and Pavel beats Hikaru every time, turning back to smile at him triumphantly when his hand slaps the edge. He looks so much younger like this, soaking wet, breathless but not tired. Every time they come to the end of a lap in the shallow end Hikaru can't stop himself from falling onto him, hoisting him up and kissing him hard. Pavel laughs into his mouth and wraps around him, indulging him for a few seconds before slipping away and racing back to the other end of the pool. Finally, Hikaru tires out and floats on his back, propelling himself lazily through the water as he stares up at the fake skylights, the fake stars.   
  
"Do these sky-scapes ever unnerve you?" Hikaru asks when they're back in the shallow end, Pavel hanging on his shoulders and nipping at his neck. "The fake sky? Does it ever give you the creeps, how real it looks?"  
  
"I like to forget," Pavel says. "The part that unnerves me is when I leave here and walk back into the halls, no more windows, no more sky."   
  
No more windows, no more sky. Hikaru takes one of Pavel's hands and kisses the pads of his fingers, his knuckles, his palm. Pavel knows something is off, but how could Hikaru ever explain to him that he's a sky-scape himself, not real, just a projection only Hikaru can see? They've had conversations here in this nowhere place that he'll never have with the real Pavel, and he's connected with this illusion in ways that he never did even with the old Pavel. It's morbid to think it meaningless, because it does stem from things that were real, and some things that still are, but what he has here is unique, and he'll lose it soon. This Pavel who is worried that there's something Hikaru isn't telling him will disappear, unless the Bythults keep him somehow, just as he is, though Hikaru doesn't like that idea, either.  
  
"I wish they would do thunderstorms more often," Pavel says, tilting his head back to look at the skylights. "Those are my favorite."  
  
Hikaru opens his mouth to remind Pavel about the shore leave they spent on Rhytha in a hotel by the planet's tumultuous ocean, rain blasting their cottage day and night, thunder rattling the windows, but he can't remember if that happened before or after this day in their past. He just remembers the old-fashioned wood-burning fireplace, and the impressive pile of blankets and pillows that Pavel nested in beside the hearth while Hikaru made him dinner in the tiny kitchen. He remembers looking up from stirring a pot of soup and catching Pavel staring at him with such completely unguarded happiness, smiling just faintly with the blankets pulled up to his chin, rosy-cheeked from the heat of the fire. That Pavel was real, and this Pavel is him, whatever means Hikaru had to use to return to him. He's also the same the Pavel who now has short hair, a split lip, and a tendency, if Kirk is telling the truth, to stare at old pictures of the two of them when he's alone in his room. Hikaru imagines the shoe box where Pavel has hoarded the pictures: a hidden, tattered thing that lives under his bed. He pulls Pavel around his side and holds him against his chest, letting him lean back a little to look Hikaru in the eyes.  
  
"Let's go back to the room," Pavel says, his voice soft as his legs unwind from Hikaru's waist. He puts his feet over Hikaru's on the bottom of the pool, standing up on his toes.   
  
"The room?" Hikaru says, mesmerized for a moment by the way the underwater lights cast licks of undulating blue across Pavel's face, making his eyes look jeweled, otherworldly.   
  
"Yes. I want to curl up in bed with you all around me, under the blankets with the data screen playing something, anything, one of those old movies you love. Could we do that?"  
  
He actually seems frightened, goosebumps rising on his wet skin. Hikaru holds him close, kissing and reassuring, promising that of course they can do this. He wants nothing more himself, but there's one thing he has to do first.   
  
"Just let me make a run to sick bay to see McCoy about a sleeping pill," Hikaru says. "I don't want another night of tossing and turning, having nightmares. I need to get some rest."  
  
"But what if you don't have any dreams, and you miss some important message?" Pavel asks as they head into the locker room wrapped in their towels, shivering.  
  
"You don't believe in that kind of stuff."   
  
"Yes, but you do."  
  
"No, I don't. Not today, anyway."   
  
Hikaru takes a quick shower in the locker room, dresses and heads toward sick bay, his head pounding. He's actually afraid that McCoy won't be there, that somehow he'll already be gone. His hair is still wet, and he's forgotten how cold the hallways of the _Enterprise_ could get. He wishes he'd asked Pavel to come along with him. He feels like he's in a dimension where Pavel is not safe, a place where people could start disappearing without explanation at any minute.   
  
Sick bay is just as quiet as the pool was, and almost as dimly lit. McCoy keeps the lights down in the examining areas when they're not in use, to save energy, and tonight all the beds are empty. Hikaru stands in the middle of the room for awhile and looks around at them: the privacy curtains are pulled back neatly and the white sheets are pristine, tucked in tightly. Soon, no sick bay in the fleet will look like this, and most of them will need to replicate extra beds, the days of privacy curtains long gone. Hikaru looks at the bed where McCoy caught Pavel bouncing on him and smiles. Before, he felt like even if he could go back he wouldn't know how to live in this world anymore, a place where there was time for exuberant sex in a sick bay bed, when that was just part of the healing process after the kind of away mission calamities that seem quaint and harmless now.  
  
Hikaru hears McCoy's voice coming from his office, and he can see McCoy's desk lap glowing through the crack in the door. He was in McCoy's office only a few times during his tenure on the _Enterprise_ , waiting in the chair across from McCoy's desk while McCoy wrote out prescriptions and gave Hikaru orders about which foods to avoid while taking them. When Hikaru comes to the doorway and knocks lightly he's not surprised to find Jim sitting across from McCoy's desk, laughing at something that McCoy is muttering about. McCoy is drinking from a short glass of whiskey, smiling at Jim mostly with his eyes, his mouth quirked just slightly. He sees Hikaru and motions for him to come in. Already, Hikaru can't believe McCoy was ever gone, that the world went on without him.   
  
"Looking for something, Lieutenant?" McCoy asks, setting the whiskey glass on his desk as Hikaru walks inside.  
  
"Mr. Sulu!" Jim says. He's beaming, drumming his hands on the arm of his chair. He always turned into a twelve-year-old boy when McCoy was around, and Hikaru thinks of Nyota's story about Kirk taking the Kobayashi Maru. Apparently he had the nerve to eat an apple during the test, gloating like a school boy and shooting _Did you see that, did you see me just then?_ looks in McCoy's direction the whole time. Hikaru knows plenty about what it's like to become a different person after losing someone you love.  
  
"I was just, um." Hikaru stares at McCoy, his face heating as he realizes he's afraid McCoy will get mad at him for knowing that he's dead. McCoy always intimidated him, though he would become quiet and gentle when Hikaru was really sick. When Hikaru had to have his leg partially reconstructed McCoy barely left his side, which led to him walking in on Pavel giving him sexual healing.  
  
"Have a seat, have a drink," Kirk says, though he doesn't seem to be drinking himself. He can put away a lot on shore leave, but Hikaru never saw him drink while he was on board the ship. Hikaru accepts a glass of whiskey, though he knows he shouldn't, that he's got to stay sharp. He'll just have a few sips. It's been a long day.  
  
"Feeling sick or something?" McCoy says when Hikaru just sits there sipping whiskey and staring at him.  
  
"You do look a little pale," Kirk says.   
  
"I'm fine -- I was just wondering if I could get a sleeping pill? Just one, just for tonight. I didn't get much rest last night, I had nightmares."   
  
"Nightmares?" McCoy frowns and puts his elbows on his desk. "Is this a reoccurring problem?"  
  
"No, well --"  
  
"It must be, if it's come to sleeping pills."  
  
"What are you having nightmares about?" Kirk asks.   
  
"Jim, for God's sake," McCoy says. He scribbles a prescription on his pad. "What are you, his analyst? It's none of your business."  
  
Hikaru drinks some more whiskey. "It's okay," he says. "They were nothing -- or -- I don't really remember them."  
  
"You've been anxious since we brought Pavel back from Ichtar," Kirk says. He squeezes Hikaru's shoulder. "That was a close call. I know it's still on your mind."  
  
"Jim," McCoy mutters. Hikaru chews his tongue to keep from laughing hysterically or bursting into tears. He wants to jump up onto McCoy's desk and do a jig until they understand that none of this is real. But then again, he wants to sit here with them for an hour, not talking, just watching them talk to each other.   
  
"It did bother me," Hikaru admits. He was there, waiting at the platform when Pavel materialized. Kirk was holding him. Pavel was unconscious, limp, and Hikaru thought he was dead until he saw the look on Kirk's face, calm and strong as he barked orders, and he knew Kirk would not be that way if Pavel was really gone.   
  
"It's a rough deal, falling in love with a fellow crewman," Kirk says. He's not looking at McCoy, and McCoy is not looking at him. They never spoke a word about what went on between them to anyone. They didn't need to.   
  
"I didn't mean to," Hikaru says. He wonders why he feels so lightheaded, then remembers that he didn't eat anything all day. Funny that fake whiskey could make him feel anything, but that orgasm he had earlier was as powerful as anything his real body ever experienced.   
  
"Nobody means to," McCoy says. "That's the trouble." He tears off the prescription and hands it to Hikaru. "Bring that to Sampson at the pharmacy," he says. "And don't go getting addicted to those things. I've only given you four. Take one tonight, an hour before you want to hit the sack, and two tomorrow if that doesn't do the trick. Make sure you eat a full meal for dinner, and for God's sake, Jim, get that whiskey glass out of his hand."   
  
Hikaru hands his glass to Kirk and he passes it to McCoy, who finishes it off. McCoy sits back in his chair and folds his hands behind his head, and when he raises his eyebrows Hikaru realizes he's staring again.   
  
"That dream really got to me," Hikaru says.  
  
"I thought you couldn't remember it?" Kirk says.   
  
"Right, but. Still. It just left me with a bad feeling." He could tell them about Tyson right now. Maybe it would rip the whole universe to shreds. So what. That's going to happen anyway.  
  
"Hey, have a little faith," Kirk says. He grins and slaps Hikaru's knee. "I know the war's been getting to all of us, even if we're not on the front lines. But I'll counter your bad feeling with my good one. We've got an exceptional crew and the best ship in the fleet. And if Pavel gets himself in another scrape-up on an away mission, you know the doctor here will fix him right up."   
  
Hikaru lets out his breath and looks at McCoy, who doesn't seem as confident as Kirk. He gives Hikaru a pinched little smile, as if to tell him he understands, that he's worried, too.   
  
"I do have faith," Hikaru says, but suddenly he's not sure that he ever did. Pavel was on the one who stayed on the _Enterprise_ , who clung to what they knew, what they had once trusted. Hikaru did run away, telling himself it was the responsible thing to do, because he'd been offered a ship, because Starfleet needed him, but he just didn't want to stick around and watch the rest of them get picked off. He didn't want to deal with Kirk and Uhura's ashen faces and the sky-scapes that were turned off to conserve energy, all of the windows black, not windows anymore. He didn't want to be there at the platform when Kirk returned holding a limp Pavel who would never revive.  
  
"Well, I'll let you two get on with your evening," Hikaru says, and he blushes when Kirk laughs.   
  
"A full meal, Lieutenant, I mean it," McCoy says, pointing at him. "And drink plenty of water before bed."  
  
"But then won't he wet the bed if he has to pee and he's all conked out from a pill?" Kirk says. McCoy gives him a withering look.   
  
"That's very unlikely, Dr. Kirk," McCoy says, and Kirk holds up his hands. He grins at Hikaru.  
  
"Don't drink _too_ much water. Just, anecdotally."   
  
"Jim!"  
  
Kirk grins at McCoy. He looks so much younger than he ever did on the bridge, the weight of his responsibilities momentarily shed. Hikaru wonders if this was their routine: after shift, McCoy with his whiskey and Kirk with his jokes, then off to the mess to have dinner with the crew before retiring to Kirk's room. He stands up, feeling like he's intruding on Kirk's last night with McCoy, though Kirk is back in the temple, waiting and watching Hikaru's eyelids flutter as he drifts through this dream.   
  
"Thanks," Hikaru says, holding up the prescription, which he doesn't intend to fill, though something about that seems sacrilegious, or just unwise, as if McCoy knows why he's here and is trying to pass him something that will help. Hikaru lingers in the doorway for awhile, wishing he knew what to say, what Kirk would have wanted him to tell McCoy. The Kirk who is here now, still unable to imagine a world without McCoy in it, laughs a little at Hikaru's awkwardness.  
  
"Are you sure you don't need to be examined?" McCoy says, the bark of his voice making Hikaru snap out of it. "You're acting like you've got a parasite on your brain stem."  
  
"I haven't -- I don't -- I'm okay." Hikaru crashes into the door frame on the way out. "I just need to get some rest, that's all."   
  
McCoy harrumphs as if he doubts that's true, and Kirk gives Hikaru a wave before turning back to McCoy and scooting the chair closer to his desk. Hikaru can hear them talking quietly as he leaves, though he can't make out the words. He wanders through sick bay, feeling like something has been cut out of him. For awhile he lingers where he can hear the faint murmur of McCoy and Kirk's conversation, occasionally punctuated by Kirk's laugh or McCoy groaning in feigned exasperation. Eventually it just makes him so lonely for Pavel, and he hurries back to their room.  
  
It will be the last time he walks through the halls of the _Enterprise_ as it was, and he tries to savor the moment, running his fingers along the walls when no one is looking. Women pass in short dresses and he wants to hug them, for the days when those uniforms were practical enough. He passes the botany lab and considers taking a stroll around the gardens, saying hello to his old specimens, which are long gone now. Even as captain of the _Reliant_ there are no resources like this available to him anymore, everything unessential cleared out to make room for the wounded or additional shields. Hikaru has only one plant in his quarters, a little cactus on his desk that he calls Gertrude. He's actually spoken to it once or twice, when he was especially lonely and sleep-deprived.   
  
By the time he gets back to the room he's feeling weak with nostalgia and too aware of how little time he has left here. Just seven hours and it will all be gone forever. He could use the time to investigate Tyson further, but it would be as risky as trying to warn someone, if anything he does here even poses a real risk. Pavel was right to lambaste him for going through with this without really understanding how it works. Hikaru sighs and punches in the code to his old room: the coordinates of the planet where he first kissed Pavel, on an away mission, in an alien pub. Pavel was wearing a tight black shirt, trying to be cool, and Hikaru was in love with every dorky facet of him, every fake confidence, and every real one, too. He got historically drunk and Pavel laughed at him, then helped him stand, then brought him to a corner and leaned up to meet his kisses. Hikaru only half-remembered it in the morning, but Pavel was in bed beside him when he woke, wearing his tight black t-shirt and his little cotton briefs, and Hikaru watched him sleeping for two hours before he worked up the nerve to press his puffy, hungover face to Pavel's. Pavel's eyes fluttered open slowly, and when he smiled Hikaru promised the universe that he'd do anything to keep this, anything.  
  
Pavel is in bed when Hikaru walks into the room. He's shirtless under the blankets, possibly even naked, frowning at his PADD as he scrolls through whatever he's reading. He puts the PADD down when Hikaru walks in, and for awhile they both just stare at each other expectantly, then Pavel laughs.  
  
"You look like someone killed your dog," Pavel says.  
  
"Don't talk about killing anything. Just don't."  
  
Pavel raises his eyebrows. "What happened?" he asks. "What's wrong?"  
  
"Nothing." Hikaru pulls his shirt off over his head. He drops it on the floor and stands there with his hands on his hips. The edges of the room are swimming; he's drunk. "I should eat something."  
  
"So eat something." Pavel sits up and smacks the blankets, looking as angry as he did after he learned that Hikaru was willing to come back here, that he would do anything to get back to Pavel like this, like they were. "Hikaru!" he says.  
  
"What?"  
  
"I – are you breaking up with me?"  
  
"Huh? What are you talking about?"   
  
"I don't know!" Pavel flings his PADD to the floor, the sort of childish gesture that would have set Hikaru off back in the old days, but now it just makes him want to crumble to the bed and pull Pavel into his arms, and that's what he does. Pavel sighs against Hikaru's shoulder, holding on tight, their bare chests pressed together.   
  
"I will never break up with you," Hikaru says. It's true; they'll drift apart more organically, after Hikaru accepts his captaincy and Pavel refuses to be his first officer, though it won't do anything to ease the bitterness. "That's beneath us."  
  
"You keep looking like you wish you had the balls to break my heart," Pavel says.  
  
"That's ridiculous."   
  
"No, it's not. Here, get in bed with me, damn you. I've been waiting for an hour."  
  
Was he really gone for an hour? The time is disappearing so quickly, and he feels like he just woke up in this bed with Pavel less than an hour ago. He takes his boots and pants off and clambers over Pavel, shoving his legs under the blankets and moaning as he seals his body to the warmth of Pavel's. Pavel shifts back against him, huffing a little, still irritable, though he eagerly pulls Hikaru's arm across his chest.   
  
"Would you still love me if my arms weren't this strong?" Hikaru asks, whispering the question directly into Pavel's ear. "If they got softer and skinnier, and my stomach sagged and my hair turned gray?"  
  
"Are you asking me if I'll be with you when you're old?" Pavel says, snapping the question at him. Hikaru has to chew his tongue to hold back giddy laughter, though really he's got nothing to smile about, except that it's funny, how sure he is that spending his last seven hours with Pavel is not only the right thing to do but probably what Kirk wanted for him anyway.   
  
"Yeah, I guess I'm asking that," Hikaru says. "Or if you'll marry me."   
  
"Ha. As if that's a serious question."  
  
"You don't think I want to marry you? To spend the rest of my life with you?"  
  
"Hikaru, shut up. You're scaring me. Turn on a movie, alright?"  
  
Hikaru puts on _The Yellow Ribbon_ , a love story set at the turn of the 22nd century. It's his favorite movie, and he hasn't seen it in years. It's about being in love during wartime, with the universe in chaos. The young boy soldier has always reminded Hikaru of Pavel, and Hikaru has always wished he could be more like the boy's love interest, an intimidating but kind superior officer who has to put her feelings aside and do her duty, which ultimately results in the boy's death. Pavel never cries during this movie, but Hikaru always has to chew his tongue at the end, when the woman finds the boy's body on the battlefield. He always believed that he couldn't be like her, putting duty ahead of love, but maybe that's exactly what he did, though it's more complicated than that, and suddenly the movie seems sentimental and silly. He licks at Pavel's neck, using the very tip of his tongue to trace lines between Pavel's freckles. Pavel shudders and moans a little, pressing back against him.  
  
"This stupid movie," Pavel says as the credits roll. "She could have captured the ion cannon and still saved him."  
  
"You say that every time we watch this."  
  
"Well, it's true! All she had to do was delegate responsibility more effectively. She was a control freak."   
  
"So what do you want to watch?" Hikaru asks. He's still snuggled up behind Pavel under the blankets, his hand skimming down until he finds the elastic waistband of his briefs. "Porn?" Pavel was a huge porn aficionado when they knew each other. He once called it the only honest art form.  
  
"You mean porn like a video, or porn like you fucking me?" Pavel says, laughing as Hikaru's hand creeps into his underwear.   
  
"Me and you, I think." Hikaru was never a big fan of porn; he could only ever get through a couple of minutes of watching other people get off before he wanted to rub up against someone real. He strips Pavel of his underwear, marveling at how he once had a right to do this, that someone, _Pavel_ , once belonged to him so completely. Pavel smiles at him and spreads his legs, already hard, and Hikaru just leans up over him for awhile, breathing deeply as his hands travel over Pavel's perfect skin.   
  
"What if this is the best moment of our lives?" Hikaru says. "Right now."   
  
Pavel stares up at him, looking a little wounded.  
  
"I'm okay with that," he says.   
  
Hikaru kisses him as if to agree. They really did get off easier than most, and they had almost three years of happiness together, so many nights like this that they took most of them for granted. Hikaru is still sustained by the idea that Pavel is alive somewhere, though it hurts to know Pavel hates him. He'll take that over knowing he's gone, and sometimes he sits in his stateroom and stares out the window, imagining what Pavel is doing at the moment: washing his face before bed, typing up a report for Kirk, hugging his pillow as he stares out his own window. It doesn't matter what he's doing, or how often he does or doesn't think of Hikaru, just that he's alive somewhere, a burned out star whose light is still visible from the distance between them.   
  
This is sex like it always was: Pavel moaning softly, almost whimpering as Hikaru fucks him, and Hikaru holding him in a bruising grip, desperate to have more and more and more of him. When Pavel comes Hikaru draws his fingers across his chest and licks the taste of him from them. This was never something he liked, but now that it's gone he can't get enough. Pavel stares up at him, panting through the end of his orgasm.  
  
"I'll tell you a secret," Hikaru says, leaning down to whisper into Pavel's ear, his hips still pumping, his own climax close.  
  
" _Ah_ \-- what, Hikaru? What?"  
  
"You are the whole world," Hikaru whispers. "It's all just you, everything that matters, all of it. I never wanted you to know that. But -- _oh_ , Pavel, _God_ , Pavel -- I think you should, you should know, you should."   
  
Pavel wraps his arms around Hikaru's neck and clings when he comes, his legs squeezing Hikaru closer, bony knees tight around Hikaru's sides. Hikaru cries out, saying Pavel's name maybe six or seven times, his voice getting weaker with each breathless exclamation. When he's done, throbbing and tired, he just lies still, and Pavel's legs lower slowly, his arms untangling, one hand sliding up into Hikaru's hair and the other down along his arm. He whispers something in Russian and Hikaru lifts his head.  
  
"What?" he says, nudging Pavel's cheek with his nose. "What did you say?"  
  
Pavel smirks, and the sex-flush on his cheeks deepens with his embarrassment. He never liked getting called out when he tried to hide behind his native language.  
  
"I said your arms will always be strong enough to hold me." He squeezes Hikaru's bicep gently. "Even when you are very old."  
  
"You won't try to wriggle out of them?"  
  
"No, never."   
  
Hikaru pulls his softening cock from Pavel's body, definitely for the last time now, and when Pavel rolls toward the wall Hikaru follows, closing him into his arms. Pavel sighs and adjusts in his usual finicky way, twitching and shifting and finally reaching back to pull Hikaru's leg onto him.   
  
"Aren't you going to take your sleeping pill?" Pavel asks.  
  
"Nah, I had that whiskey, so I'd better not. I'll take it tomorrow."  
  
"So more dreams tonight? Nightmares?"  
  
"Maybe. I don't know." Hikaru kisses Pavel's ear. He doesn't want to fall asleep, to waste his last hours here, but he's so tired, and so comfortable, so warm. Pavel's hand is still wrapped around his leg, his fingers pressed in behind Hikaru's knee. Hikaru reaches over Pavel to put the lights down. He's too anxious to sleep for long, but it's been well over twenty-four hours since he last rested, and he just needs to close his eyes for a moment, to nap away the buzz of whiskey and sex.   
  
He wakes up not knowing where he is, and panic flicks through him before he realizes that he's still in the past, Pavel asleep in his arms, the cozy quiet of the room humming around them. Hikaru checks the clock by the bed and mutters a curse when he sees that he has only a little under an hour left. He presses his face to Pavel's neck and tries to decide why it matters, what he could possibly still accomplish while he's here. His heart beats faster and faster until finally he can't stand lying still anymore. He unwinds himself from Pavel slowly, giving his curls a last kiss. Whatever happens here, Pavel is still alive in the future, and Hikaru could still go to him. If Jim is telling the truth about Pavel looking at their old pictures, there might be some chance for them to recapture what they had before.   
  
But it's not enough. Hikaru sits naked at his desk and stares down at his old PADD, rubbing his thumbs over its cool, clean edges, his heart hammering as he tries to think this out. Jim wouldn't send him back here, taking the risks that they did, just for the chance of maybe learning something that might be useful to the Federation in the future. It's not his style. And what he'd said during that first meeting: _This feels right_. It doesn't feel right not to try to change things. But then why wouldn't Jim have gone himself? Hikaru puts his head in his hands and groans, then looks back at Pavel, who is still sound asleep, his face tucked into the crook of his arm and his hand pushed under the pillow.   
  
It's something to do with McCoy, that's why Jim didn't go back himself. But if Jim really wanted Hikaru to try to change things, and couldn't say so, how does McCoy fit in? Jim would try to save him, they both know he would, and what would stop him that won't stop Hikaru?  
  
Hikaru watches the clock as the minutes tick away. He's still so tired, his mind not quite clear even now that he's sobered. He goes over the players a thousand times in his head: Jim, who came up with this plan but didn't trust himself to enact it, McCoy, Jim's lost advisor, the human voice that countered Spock's logic so many times, and Tyson, the bitter Lieutenant who only pretended to rise from the ashes of the underground cities so that he could have his revenge on the system that once failed him. Hikaru pulls his hair into his hands and tugs, fighting to stay sharp, his tired body beginning to tremble. Maybe it's all for nothing, and he should just do as Jim said, change nothing, stay quiet, or risk shredding a fabric of time that only the Bythults understand. But the Bythults, how do they fit in? Why would they ever offer this massive responsibility to a human, and why has it all come down to Hikaru and this PADD in his last five minutes in the past? Why would anyone ever trust him to make this decision alone?  
  
"Hikaru?" Pavel's voice is soft, but Hikaru is still startled, and he jerks up to look at Pavel, who has lifted his head just slightly from the pillow.  
  
"It's okay," Hikaru says, though he knows his face shows otherwise, his jaw tight and his eyes heavy with exhaustion and worry. "Go back to sleep. I'll be back in a second."   
  
"What are you doing?"   
  
"Nothing, just -- I forgot, I told McCoy I'd message him before bed. To let him know I'd picked up my sleeping pills."   
  
He's not sure where that excuse came from, since it makes no sense. If McCoy was that worried about Hikaru taking his pills he could have pulled up his pharma register and checked it to see his last pick up. He turns back to his PADD and the blank message screen he's been staring at for the past hour, and as if Pavel is watching over his shoulder, he types McCoy's name into the recipient field.   
  
For a moment he just stares, the sense that he's on the verge of understanding something perched at the top of his mind like a giant boulder that only needs the lightest push. Before, he'd been thinking of messaging Kirk, though he couldn't even work up the nerve to type his name out. But Kirk was one of the people who gave Tyson the benefit of the doubt. He personally vouched for him after the blow up in sick bay. It wasn't anything special about Tyson; Kirk would have done this for any crewman who gave him no reason to suspect him, and especially one who'd had a difficult past. Kirk knows this about himself. He knew it when he sent Hikaru back. He didn't have him it in him to suspect anyone on his crew, and he would have talked himself out of reaching any definitive conclusions, the exercise wasted. Hikaru types furiously, only two minutes left. He's still not sure that Kirk wants him to do anything more than bring his suspicions back to the future, but it's not suspecting that Kirk would hesitate to do at this point, it's _acting_. Hikaru's breath comes faster as he types, that feeling Kirk honors surging through him: _This feels right, This feels right, This feels right_.  
  
"Hikaru," Pavel says.  
  
"Just a minute." That's all he has left, one minute. Hikaru's finger hovers over the 'SEND' key, his hand shaking. He rereads his message, though there is no time to make revisions.  
  
 _Bones: You were right about Tyson, but it might be even worse than you thought. Make sure Jim looks into it. --H.S._  
  
"Hikaru," Pavel says again, his voice wobbling a little. Hikaru has five seconds left, and he wants one last look at Pavel before he goes. He hits SEND. The message flashes away, a confirmation page replacing it. _Your message has been sent to L_MCCOY1701_. It's done.   
  
He sets the PADD down and looks up at Pavel. Already, he can feel something pulling at him, starting in his stomach and moving outward.   
  
"Come to bed," Pavel says, reaching for him, and that's last thing Hikaru attempts to do as the world crumbles away around him, everything fading to black, Pavel's face the last thing to go.  
  
*

Hikaru wakes up coughing, and someone pours water down his throat. His eyes are wet and the light is coming in through the hole in the roof of the temple just as it was when he lost consciousness, but the butterflies are gone. Kirk is quick to his side, grabbing for his hand.  
  
"Hey, hey, you're alright," he says, because Hikaru is agitated in his confusion, the Bythults holding his shoulders down. "Just relax for a minute, let them bring you out of it."  
  
 _Bring you out of it_. So it's gone. Hikaru stares up at Kirk, tears leaking down both sides of his face, though he doesn't feel like he's crying, more like he's had holes poked in him and something essential is leaking out.   
  
"I know who it was," Hikaru says, and the way Kirk's eyes sharpen makes Hikaru think of a fish darting suddenly through calm water.  
  
"Good," Kirk says softly.  
  
Hikaru feels ill when he sits up, and old. Having Kirk beside him helps, and he drinks water, listens to the murmuring of the Bythults and overhears a call Kirk makes to somebody, saying he has a name. He agreed with Hikaru's theory about Tyson, nodding sadly as he explained. It feels irrelevant already. Hikaru eats some bread and fruit provided by the Bythults, who watch him with large, unlidded eyes.  
  
"I didn't do what you asked me to," Hikaru says while the Bythults are preparing to leave, gathering around the wooden platform that will bear Kirk and Hikaru out of the jungle once they're blindfolded. "I tried to change things."   
  
Kirk sniffs a little, almost a laugh. He squeezes Hikaru's arm.  
  
"I kind of hoped you would."  
  
"You did?"  
  
"Yeah." Kirk grins, a sad approximation of the smile Hikaru saw in McCoy's office. "I thought it might actually work."  
  
Hikaru hugs Kirk's shoulders, and Kirk just stares into space for awhile. So Hikaru was right. He did exactly what Kirk wanted him to. He just thought, when he did it, that it would mean something, that if Kirk wanted to believe that badly in something it would be made real. Hikaru can still smell Pavel on his skin, though he hasn't actually touched him in a long time, not with this body. Maybe what he did in the past at least changed one small thing, like the birth of a largely irrelevant star, one little spot of light blinking suddenly onto black, indifferent space. For most of the universe it's a meaningless occurrence, though thousands of civilizations might spend eons circling it, billions upon billions of ultimately insignificant beings worshiping gods and making wars and wasting years of their little lives wondering why one of those billions doesn't love them anymore.   
  
"Did you see him?" Kirk asks, and he's not talking about Pavel.  
  
"Yeah," Hikaru says. It was Spock who had to tell Kirk about McCoy's death. Afterward, it clear enough that they both wished they could be friends like they were before, but they both knew that they couldn't.   
  
"Toward the end, after I'd realized it was Tyson. I went to see Bones, just to see him, just -- and you were there. You were both hanging out in his office after your shifts, just talking. He was drinking whiskey, and you were -- well, you were. So fucking happy, Jim."   
  
Kirk says nothing. He wanted to be erased by whatever Hikaru did in the past, was willing to risk it. It's why he's a good leader, his sometimes reckless desire to put things right. The Bythults approach with the blindfolds, but Hikaru turns from them, pulling Kirk with him.   
  
"He was the one I tried to tell," Hikaru says, keeping his voice low. "I was struggling with it, wondering how I could make you believe me back then, before you'd seen what would happen, what was at stake. Then I figured it out: Bones would be able to convince you. You would listen to him."   
  
"Excuse me, Captain Sulu, Captain Kirk," one of the Bythults says, polite but firm. Kirk stares at Hikaru and Hikaru almost wishes he would cry, because he doesn't even look especially sad, just completely lost.   
  
"Come back to the _Enterprise_ ," Kirk says.   
  
Hikaru can't believe it now, how long he's been waiting for Kirk to ask him to. Pavel wouldn't, out of pride, and Hikaru wouldn't have stayed for him, not after he'd refused to be Hikaru's first officer. But if Kirk had asked, back then, they both could have pretended that he was the reason they were staying together, as opposed to pretending that he was the reason they didn't.   
  
"I can't," Hikaru says as the Bythults blindfold him. He's glad for the darkness, and the renewed disorientation. He couldn't stand the sight of the bright, beautiful morning that is still twittering around his ears. It's supposed to be night. He's supposed to be in bed with Pavel, sleepless with anxiety, wondering if he did the right thing by accusing Tyson.   
  
"Your ship's in bad shape," Kirk says. "And they'll shrink the fleet if our plan works."  
  
"Our plan?"  
  
"To cut the lines of communication between the Klingons and their spy. Hikaru, please. Things are going to be hectic for awhile, but after that --"  
  
"I'll think about it." He can't imagine being back there. But, fuck. He just was.  
  
On the way out of the jungle, they don't speak, but at one point Kirk presses his shoulder against Hikaru's and sighs, and Hikaru lets out a breath of relief, feeling as if he's been forgiven for being the one who got to go back, and for being unable to break the rules of time and space the way they both wanted to.  
  
Tyson is investigated and arrested, but this is kept secret until after Starfleet has posed as him, sending a message to the Klingons that spurs one of their biggest attempted offenses since the Second War began. The Klingons are ambushed, a significant portion of their fleet destroyed. After the battle, Hikaru is informed that the _Reliant_ is being sent back to Earth indefinitely, for repairs. He's offered captaincy on a much smaller vessel, and he tenders his resignation without really thinking about the fact that he's giving not just giving up war but flying. He tells himself he'll go back to Earth, teach at the Academy, that he'll be inspired by the fresh faces of children who won't need to learn the hard lessons that cut Hikaru's generation and the one that followed off at the knees. The tide of the war is turning, and people are frantic with hope, though they try to hide it even from themselves, like drug addicts, pretending they can quit anytime they want.  
  
Hikaru takes a room on a space station in Lazarus, the system where he had his first shore leave. It was a month or so before he kissed Pavel, and they spent their free days together, sharing a room, blushing as they shuffled around each other, taking turns at the sink to brush their teeth. The hotel where they stayed is gone, but he finds a similar enough one and drinks a lot of vodka, watches the news on the wall-mounted data screen and scoffs at the teary-eyed politicians. On the night Tyson Walker is convicted and promptly assassinated by a civilian in the courtroom, Hikaru finally gets drunk enough to send a message to Pavel's PADD. It feels so strange to do it, knowing that it's something he could have done at any time, when before it seemed as possible as reaching into the past and sending a dead man a message that would change everything. Hikaru goes to his sent folder and reads over the message roughly ten thousand times, as if it's profound enough to warrant analysis.  
  
 _Aren't you going to ask me what it was like?_  
  
He reloads his inbox for two hours, and falls asleep drooling and snoring with his PADD on his chest, no response from Pavel. In the middle of the night he wakes up bone dry and gulps water, telling himself that he shouldn't check his PADD, that it's hopeless. He does it anyway, and when he sees the highlighted line at the top of the screen, Pavel's name, _Re: (no subject)_ , he feels thirteen years old, waiting to know if he'll survive a flailing attempt to reach out to an unattainable, godlike object of affection. He's afraid to read the message, but he does, bringing the glow of the PADD closer to his face.  
  
 _I don't need to ask you. It was my past, too. I remember what it was like._  
  
That's all that Pavel will offer him, even now, when Kirk has surely told him what Hikaru did for Starfleet. Maybe Pavel is jealous, in love with Kirk after all. Hikaru is only half awake when he types and sends his response.  
  
 _Bullshit._  
  
There's no response from Pavel. A day or two later, Hikaru stops checking for one every ten minutes and decides he just hates Pavel, that doing so is not only easiest but best, correct in some way. He tries to get interested in the news on the data screen, which is mostly good, Starfleet gaining major ground in the war since the Klingons lost their pipeline of inside information. He dreams that investigators do an autopsy on Tyson's body and find only globs of black poison inside, something that was eating him alive. He wakes up feeling so sorry for Tyson that he sobs into his hands.   
  
One day, he comes back from roaming the space station aimlessly and finds Kirk's face on his PADD. Kirk is drumming his fingers on his desk and waiting for Hikaru to answer his video call. Hikaru laughs out loud and accepts the connection. He hasn't heard from Kirk since Starfleet started kicking ass; Kirk has been busy with his campaign, Hikaru with his petulant grief.   
  
"What?" Hikaru says, because they're basically brothers now and it's a polite enough greeting. Kirk grins.  
  
"Still considering my offer?" he says. "I heard about the _Reliant_."  
  
"Well. That wasn't my fault."  
  
"Duh. Hikaru. C'mon. We miss you."  
  
"We?"  
  
"Yeah, me and the ship." Kirk scoffs. "Don't be an asshole. You know what I'm talking about. Pavel is sober like, forty percent of the time. What did you – what happened? Something, right?"  
  
"Nothing. Except that I tried to speak to him and he made it clear that he doesn't want to hear from me again."   
  
Kirk looks surprised, and Hikaru isn't sure which part of that information he wasn't expecting. Probably the part where Hikaru made an effort.  
  
"Well, I made him take shore leave," Kirk says. "We're coming through the storm, but I don't want him on shift when he's this distracted. Where are you staying?"  
  
"Subtle."   
  
"What? It's not like I can make him go there. Does he even know where you are?"  
  
"Like he'd come running if he did."  
  
"He might!"  
  
Hikaru groans. "Lazarus," he says.   
  
"How are you -- filling your days?" Kirk asks, looking a little queasy at the prospect of retirement.   
  
"I go for walks," Hikaru says, sincerely defensive until he hears himself. "I'm showering daily. Sometimes I even jerk off."   
  
"Hikaru, for God's sake. Come home to us. We're going back to Earth for repairs in a month, then, guess what?" He smiles, and now his eyes are like the sky after a bad storm, calm but not clear. "Another five-year mission."   
  
"Jesus."  
  
"We did it, Hikaru. The Klingons are running scared. Quit acting like the world is still ending."   
  
"Jim." He's going to remind Kirk that the world already did end, that they both know that, but then he thinks he shouldn't, because what if Kirk really believes he can have a real life now? Hikaru did, for a few hours there, after he woke up. Most of the trip out of the jungle was spent making plans about how he would get in touch with Pavel, what he would say.   
  
"Go ahead and tell him where I am," Hikaru says. "It won't matter. He won't come to me."   
  
"How about I tell you where he is, then? It's not far from Lazarus. The Lorca system. He's staying at the Bel Air in the Central Station. Funny that you both ended up at space stations, you know?"  
  
"Hilarious. I'm not going to make a fool of myself again."  
  
"Dammit, Hikaru!" Kirk frowns, reminding Hikaru so much of McCoy that he startles backward. "You two are so fucking -- can't you get over yourselves? You'd rather have your pride and be miserable than expose one fucking inch of vulnerability and maybe get the love of your life back?" Kirk huffs a little, and Hikaru's eyes burn, because he knows what's coming.  
  
"I mean," Kirk says, weakly now. "I'm trying not to take this personally, but. He's still alive, Hikaru. How can you -- how can you both just throw that away?"  
  
"Jim." There's only one thing to say, really. "I want to fly for you again. Even if he's there, fucking outranking me. I want to come back."  
  
Kirk smiles, and it never loses its power, the feeling of being forgiven by him.   
  
"I know you do," he says. "But don't wait, Hikaru. A lot can happen in a few months."  
  
Hikaru checks out of the hotel as soon as he logs off. His heart is beating fast, and he feels dangerously young again, remembering that youth wasn't much of a comfort back when he had it. All he did was doubt everything he wanted and every attempt he made to get it, and that's still what he's doing. Better to just listen to Kirk, who always seems to know what's best. Also, if this is a waste of time, he'll have the cold comfort of blaming Kirk.  
  
He's able to transport directly to the Central Station in the Lorca system, and once he arrives he finds that he really needed at least a half-day's journey, time to wind down and worry and maybe talk himself out of this. He goes to the Bel Air and sits at the bar, drinking only tea. The bartender is staring at him, probably recognizing him as Tyson Walker's accuser.  
  
"You sure you don't want something stronger?" she says. She looks worried about him.   
  
"Have you got a coin I could flip?" he asks. She shakes her head, so he pays and gets up.   
  
Standing in the middle of the lobby, he lifts his PADD and stares down at the screen. It's the most dangerous weapon he's ever wielded, and it's still never done much for him. He types a message and hits send without even allowing himself to read over it:  
  
 _I'm downstairs. Kirk told me you were here. I want to see you. If you wait a long time before responding to this I feel like I might fucking die. I'm sober, by the way. Doesn't matter to me if you're not._  
  
He waits, feeling like he can sense Pavel somewhere close, reading this, the quickening of his heartbeat. He actually makes a little noise under his breath, like a child, when the response pops up two minutes later.  
  
 _room 524. not sober_  
  
The lift seems to take hours to arrive, and Hikaru wants to pummel everyone who selects a floor lower than the one he's headed to. He feels like he's running out of time, like Kirk's advice was a warning, a way to tell him that Pavel won't be here much longer. When he reaches the fifth floor he forces himself to walk fast rather than running, because he doesn't want to be out of breath when he gets there. He knocks on the door, and he can picture Pavel so clearly, standing still, wondering if he should let Hikaru in. He hears the unlocking mechanism and braces himself like he's expecting a punch.  
  
Pavel is pale and sleepy-looking, purple rings under his eyes. His hair is a little longer and his eyes are unreadable, almost blank, except that Hikaru knows him well enough to understand that he's terrified.   
  
"I fucking knew you would do this," Pavel says, his accent thicker than Hikaru has heard it in years. Drinking always brought that out. Pavel huffs and walks away from the door, leaving it open. It's invitation enough, and Hikaru steps inside, pushing the door shut behind him. The curtains are drawn over the room's single window, and the only light is from the glow of the data screen, which is playing a simulated aquarium. The place is a mess, the bed unmade, clothes on the floor. Pavel walks to the window and stands there, his arms crossed over his chest. He's wearing a white undershirt and regulation lounge pants. He's barefoot, which makes Hikaru want to pull him into his arms and hide him against his chest.   
  
"I knew you would get sentimental and act like we could mend things," Pavel says. He half-turns to Hikaru, who is standing in the middle of the room, in the glow of the fake fish. "Probably that was the real reason that Kirk sent you. He's convinced we should be together, the fool."  
  
"He didn't send me. I volunteered, remember."  
  
"As if he didn't know you'd be the only who would."   
  
There's a vodka bottle on the desk, surrounded by empty room service plates and crumpled tissues. Hikaru picks up a sticky shot glass that is sitting beside it and pours himself a drink, then brings it over to Pavel, who throws it back in one swallow.   
  
"Fine, feel sorry for me," Pavel says. He's glaring at Hikaru, and he looks ghostly in the dark room. "What am I supposed to do without the war? It was all I had. He makes me take time away from the bridge and it's like a slap in my face."   
  
"Did he tell you about the five-year mission?" Hikaru asks. He wants to touch Pavel, to get under some blankets with him, but Pavel isn't giving off any cuddly vibes, though he is shaking a little.   
  
"Of course he told me. I'm sure he wants you to be his first officer. I've failed him."  
  
"You did not. What is this phony self-deprecation bullshit? It's not like you."  
  
"You don't know me," Pavel says, growling a little under the words.   
  
"Like hell I don't." Hikaru takes the empty shot glass from Pavel's hand, just for the excuse to touch him, and tosses it to the floor. "When I went back, while I was there, you told me about the song your father sang to you. The one about the little gray wolf."  
  
Hikaru wasn't going to tell him, afraid that it would feel like a betrayal, a violation of some kind, since _this_ Pavel never offered that information. Pavel just stares at him, his lips parting slowly.   
  
"How is that possible?" he asks.   
  
"You asked if I wanted a lullaby after I woke up from a nightmare -- you remember those nightmares I had, after you were hurt on that mission? -- and instead of scowling at you and feeling insulted, I took it as a kindness and said yes. So you sang to me."   
  
He can see Pavel's breath coming faster now, his shoulders rising and falling with it. His eyes are big, unguarded, and he looks so tired.   
  
"That wasn't in your report," he says.   
  
"You read my report?"  
  
"Of course I did. It was very dry."   
  
"Yeah, well. I think most of what I went through was too personal to put on the record. For everyone involved."  
  
"Tell me." Pavel goes to sit on the bed. He seems weakened suddenly, and Hikaru thinks of a cartoon he saw once, about a girl who was cursed by a witch who turned her into an old woman. When the old woman's heart was pure, defenseless and kind, the lines on her face would disappear, and she would become the girl again.  
  
"Tell me everything," Pavel says. "I've got a right to know."  
  
"There's not much to tell." Hikaru sighs and pulls a chair over. He didn't think it would be like this. He thought that if he got through the door they would kiss before he could speak. "I woke up in bed with you. We talked, you sang to me, told me about your father." He smirks. "We had sex in the shower."  
  
Pavel looks up, his mouth hanging open. Hikaru can't hold back a laugh at the expression on his face. He looks stunned, amazed, curious.  
  
"You could -- feel it?" Pavel touches the back of his neck. "In your report, you said it was a visceral experience, the hallucination."   
  
"It wasn't just a hallucination, and yeah, I could feel it." He swallows heavily, remembering what Kirk told him. He's got this chance, something he would have done anything for if he'd lost Pavel forever. "It felt good."  
  
Pavel sniffs and looks down at the messy bedspread, smoothing a wrinkle in the sheet.  
  
"Of course it felt good," he says, muttering. "It was sex."  
  
"It felt good to be with you again," Hikaru says. The temptation to shout is there, to tell Pavel to stop being such a difficult little shit. He tampers it down. Pavel goes on playing idly with the sheet, but Hikaru can feel a new warmth emanating from him, an embarrassed interest.  
  
"Fine," Pavel says, very softly. "I'm lonely."  
  
"I know, baby." He didn't mean to say it like that. Pavel is still staring at the bed when tears start sliding down his cheeks. He makes a little noise like he's mad at himself, and Hikaru reaches for him.  
  
"Don't," Pavel says, the word cracking in half, but when Hikaru's arms slide around him he crumbles into them. Hikaru pulls Pavel into his lap, into the chair with him, and Pavel straddles him, clinging, his arms tight around Hikaru's neck. He tries to keep his crying quiet, hiding his face and trembling like a leaf in the wind, fighting to cling to a spindly branch. Hikaru can feel Pavel's ribs under his shirt as he rubs his back, and he wonders when he last ate a real meal. He sighs into Pavel's hair and holds him tightly, his hands roaming over the not-forgotten places where they used to live most happily, and there's a childish, excited chant humming at the base of his brain: _mine, mine, oh, oh, this is all mine_.  
  
"I should have --" Hikaru starts to say.  
  
"No," Pavel says, lifting his wet face. "No, no regrets. Too many years that's all I had. Please, please."  
  
"Okay, alright, _shhh_." Hikaru kisses him once, softly, on the lips. Pavel stares at him, tears still coming.   
  
"I don't know how to do this anymore," Pavel says, whispering. "I don't even know how to be held."  
  
"You're doing okay," Hikaru says, audibly losing his composure with the last word. He kisses Pavel hard to hide it, and Pavel holds Hikaru's face with both hands as he surges forward to receive the full force of it. He tastes like the heat of his vodka and like the boy Hikaru kissed in the past, and Hikaru whines with gratitude, for that, and for everything else that hasn't changed.   
  
"I love you so much," Hikaru says when Pavel's forehead is pressed to his, both of them panting. "I don't care if I die of it. Back then, I felt like it would kill me, I loved you that much, and I was so afraid."   
  
"I told you, didn't I?" Pavel says, his eyes wet again. "In the past, I told you I loved you, I said it out loud."  
  
"Yeah, you did."   
  
Pavel curses in Russian, softly, his eyes falling shut. Hikaru studies him, stroking his face and struggling to feel as if this is real, not just another glimpse of something he lost.  
  
"That me must have known the things this me does," Pavel says. "More than that stupid boy knew in the real past. The one the Bythults showed you must have been me somehow, the way I am now, with all my regrets. Because I never would have said it back then, Hikaru, never."  
  
"Maybe, yeah," Hikaru says. "But I was different, and the Pavel I saw in the past, he knew it. I don't know how it worked. I just didn't want to leave you, but I did want to leave the past, I was ready, because I wanted to come find you here, so you wouldn't be alone anymore."  
  
"I wanted you to come," Pavel says. "I was waiting. I've been waiting so long, and hating you so much for it. Hating you, and watching every doorway, all the time, wanting you to come through all of them."   
  
"So now what do we do?" Hikaru asks. He puts his hand up under Pavel's shirt to offer a suggestion. He's never wanted Pavel this badly before, even when they were young. It's the need in Pavel that always got Hikaru going, more than his looks or the way their bodies fit together. Hikaru can feel it like water in the air, how much Pavel needs to be taken by him, flattened under Hikaru's own need. Pavel smiles, ghastly and sexy and sweet, and puts his lips to Hikaru's ear.  
  
"Show me how good it felt," he whispers.  
  
Hikaru groans and kisses him, lifting him up and falling blindly to the bed. He lands on top of Pavel, who wraps his long legs around Hikaru's back and his arms around his neck, and they kiss and writhe like desperate teenagers, rubbing the beginnings of their erections together. Hikaru leans up for a moment to pant and stare down at Pavel, whose eyes are red from crying and so, so soft, hiding nothing.   
  
"Every time I got fucked I pretended it was you," Pavel says. "I would close my eyes. But nobody smelled right, or tasted right." He cards a hand through Hikaru's hair. "Not like my Hikaru."   
  
"I was yours." Hikaru nods and rubs his face against Pavel's, drugged with relief, his dick throbbing in his pants as he ruts against Pavel. "The whole time, I was always yours. Fuck, why did we waste all that time? I wanted you every fucking night. It never got better."  
  
"Maybe if you had stayed, or if I had gone, something horrible would have happened," Pavel says. He's still stroking Hikaru's hair, very gently, as if to comfort him. It's working. "We lost a pilot five years ago and I wept because I hated myself for being glad it wasn't you. What does it matter now? You're here. I'm here. The war is ending. Hikaru, we're so lucky."  
  
Hikaru takes Pavel's shirt off and moans at the sight of his chest, still pale and skinny, though his frame is a bit broader now. He's got little spatterings of scars over his collarbone and under his left nipple, and Hikaru licks him everywhere, grinding against him when he moans. He can't keep his tongue in one place for long, and he licks a long stripe down Pavel's stomach as he yanks down his pants and underwear. Pavel moans like he's in pain when Hikaru takes his perfect cock into his mouth, and he holds Hikaru's head there, his hips twitching. Hikaru has missed the taste of Pavel's dick so much, even since his flashback, and he moans around it, pushing Pavel's milky thighs apart more widely.  
  
"Hikaru, Hikaru." Pavel whispers it reverently as he fucks Hikaru's mouth with those little twitches, one hand tight in Hikaru's hair and the other playing with his nipples. Hikaru pulls off before Pavel can come, because he wants to be inside him when he does, wants to feel it on his cock. Pavel is wrecked, his chest heaving, a raw, trembling mess on the tangled sheets.   
  
"Gonna fuck you so hard," Hikaru says as he tears his own clothes off, feeling crazed. Pavel nods and scrambles around on the bedside table until he comes up with a little bottle of moisturizer. Hikaru takes it from him and leans up over him, his hand trembling when he reaches down between Pavel's legs.   
  
"Did you miss having my cock in here?" Hikaru asks as he breaches Pavel slickly with two fingers. Pavel cries out and arches, nodding as he jams himself down onto the intrusion. The way his cock bounces against his stomach when he writhes makes Hikaru's mouth water, and he leans down to lap at the leaking tip.  
  
" _Da_ ," Pavel says, sounding all of seventeen. " _Da_ , yes, missed you. Get in me, Hikaru, now, can't wait."  
  
Hikaru can't wait, either, though drinking in the sight of Pavel like this is nice, enough to make his cock feel as full as a teenager's. He lifts Pavel's legs up around him as he leans in to kiss him, and when the lube-slick head of his cock bumps Pavel's entrance they both suck in their breath, eyes shooting open.  
  
"Please," Pavel whispers, his voice trembling, and Hikaru slides in slowly, watching Pavel's face, the little winces and the fattening of his pupils, his mouth so wet. He drops his head to Pavel's chest when he's fully encased, moaning. Pavel feels even tighter than he did in the past. He must have given up on pretending other men were Hikaru.  
  
"You okay?" Hikaru asks, nudging Pavel's jaw with his nose. Pavel looks sleepy with pleasure, smiling up at Hikaru with his eyes mostly shut. He rubs his hands up and down Hikaru's arms, then pulls him closer, deeper, drawing a moan out of both of them.   
  
"My arms aren't what they used to be," Hikaru says.  
  
"Yes, they are," Pavel says. "I forgot how good it feels, just this." He gives Hikaru a squeeze with his legs. "When you were inside me, how you would hold me like this." His lip shakes and he looks like he's about to lose it, so Hikaru kisses him softly, with reassuring little licks. Pavel lets out his breath and opens his lips for the kiss, his hands roaming over Hikaru's back. Hikaru can hear that chant humming through Pavel as he feels his way over the reclaimed landscape of Hikaru's body: _mine, mine, oh, oh, all of this is mine_.   
  
Hikaru fucks him slow, with languid rolls of his hips, and Pavel doesn't try to hurry him like he used to, just snaps his hips up to meet Hikaru's thrusts, trying to get him deeper and deeper. Hikaru buries his face against Pavel's neck, kissing and licking him in time with his languorous thrusts. He keeps waiting for dirty talk inspiration, because Pavel liked it so much in the past, but all he can think is _Pavel, Pavel, Pavel_ , and for the most part that's all he says, Pavel answering with soft _ah_ s and wet kisses.  
  
When Hikaru comes, Pavel cries out like it's exactly what he wanted, hot and wet inside him. He's tugging on his cock, and Hikaru puts his hand over Pavel's and locks eyes with him, the shattering feeling of looking all the way into each other making his chest fill to bursting as the last of his orgasm rolls through him. They almost never looked each other in the eye like this during sex, afraid to confront their connection.   
  
"C'mon, baby," Hikaru whispers. It's addictive, apparently, calling Pavel his baby; he never did it before today. "Let it go, let me see."  
  
Pavel sobs and arches, and his dick goes off like he's been waiting twelve years for this, to let Hikaru pump him and pump him while he just keeps coming, coating both their hands. Hikaru licks some from his fingers and Pavel groans as the sight, reaching for him. Hikaru slumps against him, and the feeling of Pavel's arms sliding around him is like being forgiven for everything that he ever did and didn't do, the only acceptance that matters. He feels like he's floating on the surface of a pond, weightless and afraid, a warm darkness waiting to swallow him.  
  
"Don't pull out yet," Pavel whispers.  
  
"Wasn't gonna," Hikaru says. He gives Pavel's neck a nip, and Pavel laughs. Hikaru can't even remember the last time he heard that sound, Pavel's tired little post-sex laugh, unless he counts the flashback, which maybe he should, because he feels now like this Pavel, the real Pavel, was there with him.  
  
They lie together for a long time, staring into each other's eyes, and it's still frightening, facing the intensity of what he's giving up by finally just giving it all to Pavel, but Hikaru thinks of Kirk, how he would give anything for even half a second with McCoy, and he pulls Pavel closer, and closer, until he remembers why sex means so much, because it's as close as they can get.  
  
Hikaru makes Pavel take a shower and eat a real meal, and Pavel's old petulance returns. He's been on his own for a long time and he never liked being told what to do. Still, he lets Hikaru wash his back and buy him a room service cheeseburger. They watch the good news on the data screen: talk of a treaty with the Klingons, who have become desperate.  
  
"You saved us," Pavel says, pressed against Hikaru's side, eating french fries in bed.   
  
"Well. Okay, but you know why I really went back, right?"  
  
"To relive our glory days?"  
  
"No, no. Are you kidding me?" Hikaru grins. "I went back because you thought it was a bad idea. Because I just. Wanted to rile you up, any way I could." He kisses Pavel's nose, and Pavel laughs.   
  
"The fate of the universe hung on our lover's quarrel, then."  
  
"Yeah," Hikaru says. He's never going to let go of Pavel again, even if it makes him a fool, even if it kills him, though he's thinking it probably won't. "Here's to stubbornness."  
  
They touch french fries together to toast, chomp them down and then kiss, their lips salty and slick. Hikaru will have Pavel three more times before they finally give in and fall asleep, and it will be the last time in his adult life that he has sex four times in one day. He'll go back to Earth with Pavel and spend quiet days with him in a rented apartment, waiting for orders from Kirk, reading and raising potted plants on windowsills, laughing about the strange new political climate. When the new five-year mission leaves for space, Hikaru will be at the conn, flying the _Enterprise_ , and the first officer will be navigating, because why shouldn't he? It will be a brave new world, and Kirk's smile will get a little more familiar every day, more like it once was. They will shoot into space, the somewhat sorry embodiment of what they had to let go of, and when Kirk sees Hikaru and Pavel nuzzling like teenagers during crew parties, Hikaru will think, _He must hate us_ , and then he'll see Kirk's little smile and his forgiving eyes, which are like the vastness of the ocean, inscrutable and alive and deep in a way that Hikaru hopes he'll never understand, because he knows the cost.  
  
And when Hikaru wakes with nightmares, Pavel will stroke his hair and sing the song about the little gray wolf, until Hikaru learns the words himself and can sing it for Pavel, too.


End file.
